LandSlide
by NekoMegami-chan
Summary: A Legolas/Elrohir fic. I LOVE this couple! Anyway, this fic has it all! Hurt/comfort, Action/Adventure, Romance, drama - you name it! This is only the teaser but I'll upload the next two chapters as soon as I get some reviews!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own the song, the characters, the setting, or just about anything else. 

Archive? Yes please! Just let me know first, okay? E-mail me at nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com

Warnings: Angst, romance, violence, action/adventure and mild slash. Hurt/comfort, but not in the usual way.

Author's Note: Okay, I've loved this song ever since I heard the Dixie Chicks sing it. However, when I saw the video they did, I felt as if it didn't do the song any justice whatsoever. I know the song is figurative but eventually the idea of doing it as a literal piece with Legolas just seemed so natural! So here you go. Also, this is my first LOtR fic. 

Special thanks to Min Roh for beta reading and whithout whom this fic would be a whole lot more boring! 

Enjoy! And //PLEASE// review! Please? There are more stories where this came from if you do!

Landslide__

Part I__

_By NekoMegami-chan_

                        The days of the Fellowship were past. Peace reigned now under the hand of King Elessar and the world of men and dwarves prospered. Roads were being built. New cities bloomed like spring blossoms. The soldiers of Rohan and Gondor kept watch over the populace, gurading it from the scatterd and unfocused remainders of the Dark Lord's armies.

            The Prince of Mirkwood and his dwarven companion had only recently finished their exploration of the Glittering Caves and turned their steps towards Minas Tirith when Gimli had announced his desire to return to his home. He had made his intentions clear over the polished and battered wood of an roadside inn's table and a frothing tankard of beer. In the dancing firelight of the inn's common room, he had described plans for the Caves, saying, "I wish to gather a force of the finest craftsman my people have to offer in order to make the sparkling caverns into a dwarven paradise! What say you, Master Elf?"

            "An excellent idea! My blessings go with you. That is, if a dwarf may receive the blessings of an elf?" Legolas teased, holding up his goblet of wine in salute.

            "Aye, lad! This one will, that is for certain!" Gimli replied, raising his own drink and touching it to that of his friend. They both laughed then drank, and the next morning Gimli departed. 

            Though he had been sorry to see his stout companion trundle off into the early morning mists, Legolas knew they would meet again shortly. Each had gone his own way in good spirits, and thus the parting held little pain for either of them.

He had dallied at the inn for several days more until he received a letter from his longtime lover Elrohir, son of Elrond HalfElven. A messenger had come by way of the court of King Elessar, saying that he had passed though many such taverns in his search for the elf.

            Elrohir. He had greatly missed the elder elf during the quest to destroy the One Ring, but had not thought the other prince to seek him out so soon. When last they had spoken, their words had been sharp. The dark haired twin had demanded that Legolas not make the journey. Yet the fair prince had already pledged his loyalty to the Fellowship and after a short while, Elrohir had been forced to relent. 

            A few coins found their way into the hands of the messenger and Legolas asked him to wait until he was sent for. He unfolded the white parchment inside and began to read:

            _"Meleth nin,_

_                        "I pray this letter finds you well, though I have little doubt that it will. _

_                        "I confess that when first you left, I was angry_ _at your decision. However after much thought I realized that it was not_ _with you that I found offense, but from within. I was childish and selfish. I am embarrassed for my earlier behaviour, I should never have initiated such a needless quarrel."      _

            Then, much to Legolas' delight, a simple request:

                        "_Legolas, my love.__ If your warrior's heart can forgive my stubborn head, than please return to me as soon as you are able._

            _"Most humbly yours,_

_                        ~Elrohir Preredhil"_

            Without delay, Legolas fetched a quill and ink pot from his rooms and in quick, bold strokes sent word for Elrohir to watch for his return.

            "_Elrohir,_

_                        "All was forgiven, dear heart, ere ever the words left your lips. Look for me to come from the southeast, I shall not tarry._

_            With love,_

_                        Legolas Greenleaf"_

  
  



	2. Chapter II

Hello! Thanks for those who took the time to review the teaser chapter for this fic!! I really appreciate your input! 

Please don't forget to review; I live for your responses! nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com

Rating: R

Pairing: Legolas/Elrohir

Landslide

By NekoMegami_chan

Chapter II

_I took my love and I took it down  
I climbed a mountain and I turned around  
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills  
Well the landslide brought me down_

            Every manner of creature that walked, flew, or swam was moving about. The storm that had brought a deep layer of fresh snow the previous night had abated, but dark clouds hovered on the distant horizon.

            As the day drew to its close, Legolas mounted the crest of the mountain and turned back to gaze down in the direction he had come. The Misty Mountains were laid out at his feet and in the growing twilight the heavy clouds settled down into their crags and canyons like dogs curling around the leg of the master's chair.  

            The sun was setting at his back, and the beauty of Middle Earth was so tangible in the fading light that he was moved to song. It was a reflection of his soul to see the snow-kissed cliffs extending as far as even his keen eyes could see, as wild and free as his heart. Oh, how he loved this land! Legolas thought as he sang the chorus of an ancient tune. It was a praise for the living things of the earth and he could feel the trees that dotted the gentler slopes sigh in response to his voice. 

            Not wishing to spend the night at the top of the mountain, for the wind that swept over the treeless peak chilled even elven flesh; he began to pick his way down the opposite slope in the deepening gloom. 

            As he reached the sparse tree line he noticed that the large branches of the thin copse of evergreens were heavily laden with it. These trees were different from the ones from whence he had only just come. They spoke of a fire that had burned here seasons ago, leaving those that had survived brittle and weak. Several appeared ready to crumble from the strain.

            Taking pity on the trees he sang his song once more; seeking to give the tired trees hope. His kindness was to prove his undoing. 

            The war was over and nearly two years had passed since the One Ring had been destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom, and Saruman the White cast down. Yet the remnants of the armies of evil were yet widely scattered. Orcs had returned to their ancient haunts, hiding out in caves and wild places thick with vegetation, anywhere they could conceal their presence from the Men who hunted them without mercy. They still hungered for the flesh of their enemies.

            Legolas felt the weary trees withdraw as they sensed something distasteful moving in their midst, though their warning was nearly too late for it to be of any use. The wind rushed loudly, making the elf's golden mane lift from his shoulders like a silken banner, the same wind that had taken his scent to the nearby orcs and masked the sounds of their movement as effectively as if the prince had had wax plugs in his ears. 

            Snarling and swinging their rusty blades and nail-studded clubs they leapt from the top of a nearby embankment. They had lain in ambush beneath the shelter of some tall shrubs waiting for just such an opportunity. Elk were good, but elves were better! 

Their numbers Legolas could not yet discern, but his seasoned instincts took over ere the first of the monsters touched the snowy ground once more. Swiftly he drew his bow, notching an arrow that flew almost as soon as it had touched the string. Theorc snarled and grasped at the shaft sticking out from its ribs. Still thrashing it toppled to the ground, befouling the once pristine snow with its black blood. However, the felled beast was just one of a group of two score or more who now descended upon Legolas, roaring with pleasure at having found such beautiful meat to fill their empty bellies.

            He fired shot after shot into the scarred and misshapen bodies, keeping them at bay until his quiver was empty. Even as he was drawing his long knives, a sickening crack followed by a low rumble sounded over the deafening roars of his assailants. The ground trembled as if in pain or fear. He watched as a great hunk of the steep embankment of snow and rock give up its tenuous hold on the mountain.

            Although Legolas had never run from an enemy, he knew that his life was forfeit to this act of nature. The mountain cried out in anger, seeking to purge itself of the foul parasites living off of it, shedding blood for sport as much as for sustenance. Sheathing his weapons he ducked under the halfhearted sword swipe of one confused orc and took to his heels.

            Legolas all but flew down the slope, his light feet barely touching the snow. Leaping over boulders and dodging trees he sought only escape. Behind him the smarter orcs belatedly followed his example, their crude legs propelling them surprisingly quickly through the deep powder. The slower creatures were swallowed up by the avalanche without as much as a cry.

            Halfway down the slope Legolas' lungs began to burn. The icy night's chill had set in, searing through his chest with every frantic breath. The grey darkness of a fog-shrouded night oppressed his senses. He forced his body harder as rocks began to break loose from the frozen ground. It was as if they too tried to escape the mountain's unchecked fury. 

            The landslide drew closer, picking of speed and force as it went. The strangled yelps of nearby orcs reached his ears ere their voices were abruptly swept away. 

            Charging out of a stand of pine, Legolas' wild flight was arrested in mid-leap. A solid wall of snow, ice and earth hit him, knocking him clear of his breath and his senses.      His mind darkened by pain, he was vaguely aware of being carried downhill. He could neither see, nor hear, nor breathe and yet his barely conscious thoughts were of Elrohir. He would never see his beloved's finely featured face again. For he could only hope that Elrohir would sail away to the Grey Havens and there live for eternity. The other alternative; that his lover might die from grief and guilt - the products of a broken heart - never occurred to him. 

* * *

            A new agony arose to wrench Legolas from his dreamlike state. Something unseen flailed around beside him, an orc's club shredded the flesh of his right shin. The fresh pain galvanized his fighting spirit back into action and he sat up, kicking with his good leg and clawing at the snow as he sought the open night air above. 

            Like a drowning man, his pale face sprang over the onslaught of snow and debris and he sucked in a shallow breath, coughing pitifully. His back was to the direction the avalanche was dragging him but even the endurance of an elven prince and warrior had limits. It took all of his waning strength to keep above the surface. 

            The terrifying ride ended abruptly when first his left arm, then hip collided with a large granite boulder as he passed it by. Ere he could cry out he tumbled head over heels and came to land atop a drift of unmoving snow. 

After long moments he managed to rise and made for the relative shelter of a tree that stood close by. Pain gnawed at him like a ravenous wolf and Legolas observed the scene around him through half-lidded eyes heavy with ice encrusted lashes.

            Sure enough, a good number of the orcs seemed to have survived as well. The evil creatures were scrabbling for purchase on the rocks and trees as they passed. All nursed their own injuries as they sought escape. The fell monsters had their own problems now, and if he stayed out of their direct line of sight then he may yet see Elrohir's beautiful face once more.

            One passed quite closely to Legolas' hiding place, its hideous snout sniffing loudly as it caught the scent of elf-blood. Through the dense grey mists it came, limping from some unseen injury and snuffing with steadily increasing excitement. "Where are you, you fair one? I can smell your cooling corpse!" It muttered gleefully to itself.

            Not wishing to be discovered in this wounded state, Legolas hurriedly covered his still bleeding leg in the snow to mask the scent and drew one long knife. To the elf's advantage the orc thought him dead, giving him the element of surprise.

            Though the orc wandered within a dagger's-throw, it seemed to grow confused. Finally it pulled one of its half dead companions out of a snow drift and slung the groaning creature over one shoulder. The dying orc would take his place in the belly of its fellows this night. Legolas knew this with grim certainty and he nearly pitied it. 

            The elf fell into a light slumber, no longer able to remain conscious. It was the deep of night when he next awoke to find his frigid fingers still wrapped firmly around the dragon-ivory handle of his weapon. Sheathing it, he rubbed his eyes clear and peered through the vale of pine needles.

The shadowed bulk of uprooted trees rested like hulking black ships upon a luminescent sea. The weak light of a nearly full moon filtered through the fog to shimmer along the bared branches. In the distance a small heard of deer stood amid a cluster of low bushes, their ears only lazily swiveling 'round to scan their surroundings. The animals' lack of distress was comforting. 

            Thanking the tree at his back, he began to take stock of himself. His upper left arm and left hip were clearly broken. The latter hurt far worse, the ache spreading into his side and lower back. His head swum, making him nauseous. Gingerly, he extracted his damaged leg and inspected the torn flesh beneath the mutilated fabric of his leggings. He couldmake little sense out of the bloody mess, but the white gleam of bone could be seen beneath the thin covering of skin, muscle and sinew of his shin.        

            Having traveled light, Legolas carried only a pouch at his belt. The oiled leather bag contained a half-eaten wafer of _lembas_, a coin purse, a piece of flint, and a small roll of bandages. A flask of dwarf spirits was also included; a parting gift from Gimli. 

            Drawing his sodden cloak closer around his shoulders, he upended the contents of the pouch. He took a long drink of the spirits and grimacing at the fiery liquid, poured a liberal amount over his swollen leg. Clenching his teeth at the burning sting of the alcohol on his raw flesh, Legolas cut away the tattered remnants of his leggings and firmly bandaged the leg from knee to ankle. 

            Replacing the flask after a second strengthening swallow, he bit off a corner of _lembas_. The way bread was somewhat stale from dampness and age, the last remnants of his most recent visit to Lorien. Nevertheless it was food and he chewed thoughtfully, resting back against the tree. __

_* * *_

_Oh, mirror in the sky - what is love?  
Can the child within my heart rise above?  
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?  
Can I handle the seasons of my life?_

            As Legolas lay attempting to regain his lost vitality, he wandered through his mind. His eyes stared fixedly at the sky, seeing the far away images of another time. Times when Elrohir, Elladan, and he had hunted in the forests of Rivendell. O, how often they had returned home laughing and singing, the meat of their kills slung across their shoulders!

            So many beloved memories vied for his attention that his heart ached with desire to hold Elrohir in his arms once more. He longed to be held in return, to be soothed. Although it would not have been unwelcome for Elladan and his healing skills to be here at present.

            Young elves often found themselves in love with Love itself, but Legolas knew that he had indeed been fortunate to have found his precious Elrohir so early in their immortal lives. While it was not uncommon for elves well into their fifth millennia to couple with those only entering their second_, _it was rare for such a relationship as Legolas had with Elrohir to blossom so fully. Youths were known to experiment, and such experiments were seen as an acceptable stage in finding personal identity; although those who did were often counseled to move on after a short time. 

            Legolas had long suspected that his deep love for Elrohir went without discussion simply out of respect for the two princes' positions.__

Dawn was slowly approaching and in the distance, Legolas could make out the figure of a pale bird wheeling over the peak of the mountain. His mind instantly turned to thoughts of the sea. He had heard the cry of the gull. He dared not leave too soon; his ties to Middle Earth were yet too strong to be broken.He had mortal companions whom he loved and would not care to be parted from so long as they lived, to do so would feel too much like abandonment. No, Legolas would not sail into the west, not yet.

            He was young still, but the world was changing around him. The age of the Elves had passed, and the age of Men already begun, like the changing of the seasons. Aragorn, the adopted son of Elrond, the twin's little foster-brother Estel, was now King Elessar of Gondor. Legolas had become the best of friends with Gimli, a dwarf! The Dwarves had finally begun to emerge from the darkness of their great mountain halls and were working side by side with Mento forge roads and rebuild cities, no less. The land itself was being altered as the newly reawakened Ents herded their trees and tended the newly law protected forests of Middle Earth. The Shire was now a sovereign state recognized by all races. The world was a new place and Legolas. For the first time in his life, he began to feel that he did not quite belong. The spring of his youth was giving way into the eternal summer of his maturity._.._


	3. Chapter III

Thanks for all of the reviews everyone!! This chapter is dedicated to all of you who bothered to take the time to tell me what you thought. It seems several people enjoy my writing style, so if you're interested you might want to check out some of my other stories here on ff.net. 

I warn everyone in advance though, the dreaded Final Exams of DOOM will be arriving shortly and the next update may not be for a week or so. So I apologize up front. ^^

As always, thanks for reading and please review! 

Landslide

By Nekomegami_chan

Nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com

Chapter III__

_  
Well, I've been afraid of changing 'cause I built my life around you  
But time makes you bolder  
Children get older  
I'm getting older too  
Well..._

Legolas dropped offto sleep, his eyes sliding shut in his exhaustion. Yet his dreams were troubled, and the dreams of elves are memories as vivid as their reality. He dreamt of the last time he had seen Elrohir.__

* * *

            _Elrohir pushed away from the bookcase in his personal study at Imladris. His delicate features were tight with worry and anger. His milky skin was flushed across the nose and cheeks, dark eyes alight. _

_            Legolas silently perched on the edge of Elrohir's desk, his arms folded across his chest. The dark-haired elf now glaring at him from room's center was a beautiful creature, intellectual yet passionate. The Rivendell elf was as fleet as an elk and a natural hunter with the finesse of a great cat. Regardless these skills, his book learning rivaled that of Elrond. Legolas loved and admired him; even adored him. _

_ They had come to know each other over a great many decades. And as such, they had first developed a steadfast respect for one another. A respect that had gradually deepened, flowering into the love they shared today. Legolas laughed and Elrohir shook his head every time they reminisced about their first acquaintances. Neither had much liked the other in the beginning._

_But Legolas was not laughing now. Nor did Elrohir smile and shake his head. The atmosphere in the elegant little study was as ripe with tension as a bowstring ready to fire._

_When Elrohir began to speak his usually lighthearted voice was clipped_ _and almost pained. "Do you want me to kneel and beg, Legolas? Do not fear for your honor, I will explain to Father that you spoke with the enthusiastic rashness of youth; he will understand and aid you in finding another worthy to take your place in the Fellowship! Only please, do not go! Do not do this!"_

_            Legolas crossed his arms over his chest. His heart ached to see his lover so distraught, but he held his ground. "No, Elrohir. Never must you beg at my feet. However, I have pledged my bow to he who is to bear the One Ring to the fires of __Mount__Doom__ and I intend to see him through. I am to be the_ _eyes _and ears of the Fellowship.  I will suffer no other to take my place. I know that I am young, but by the reckoning of one such as Glorfindel or Galadriel so are you. I did not speak rashly nor without thought."__

_            Elrohir felt defeated and tired but none of it was evident in the twin's noble bearing and countenance. "I fear for you."_

_            Moving to stand directly in front of Elrohir, Legolas replied softly. "I know. But I fear more for the fate of Middle Earth."_

_            For long moments, Elrohir said nothing. His gaze turned inward and Legolas wondered what he saw. Elladan had inherited their father's skills as a healer, but Elrohir had something of his grandmother's gift in him._

_            "What did you foresee?" Legolas asked when the son of Elrond came back to himself._

_            Elrohir paled but for the bright spots colouring his cheeks. "The visions were not clear, but I saw such horrors; images of death through a screen of darkness and fire!" He blinked and heaved a sigh, the last vestiges of his clairvoyance falling away._

_            "Leave this!" Elrohir exclaimed and Legolas became uneasy at the sight of his lover so near to despair. "Come away with me! Sail with me to the Undying Lands! Elladan has heard the first stirrings of the call but hesitates to leave without me. But where my brother goes, so too must I. I do not wish to be separated from you, my love. Not even so long as it takes you to feel the lure of the sea. And should you find yourself at the gates of the Halls of Mandos_, _I will soon follow and probably my brother after me."_

_            Legolas impulsively took Elrohir by the shoulder and held him at arm's length. "I would not have both of your lives on my conscience. I promise you, I will do my utmost to come back whole. But I **must**_ _go. Please understand, my love."_

_            Elrohir stared past Legolas' left shoulder, not trusting himself to meet his lover's eyes. His voice was cold and distant when he spoke again. _"_Then so be it, Legolas, son of Thranduil. May the Valar protect you."_ _Having said his peace, he placed chaste kiss on Legolas' unmoving lips. Then he exited the study, his heavy, embroidered robes dancing around his feet._

_            Elrohir had not come down to bid him farewell when the Fellowship departed the next morning. Legolas had seen him watching from the stable loft and inclined his fair head, but Elrohir had only wept wordlessly, angry and grief-stricken before disappearing from sight._

* * *  

Somewhere far off the sun had begun its slow ascent and only then did Legolas realize how long he had spent dreaming. He was somewhat stronger now and he gathered himself to crawl stiffly out from under the protective arms of the pine. He touched the kind tree and thanked it once more for its protection ere he asked for a final favor. __

            Gaining the tree's assent, Legolas selected a sturdy branch close at hand and used one of his long knives to cut off the last elf-length of it. He then stripped the needles from the bark and used the makeshift staff to lever himself to his feet. Drawing in a shaky breath of the icy air, he caught his bearings and began the long trek down the mountain towards Rivendell.


	4. Chapter IV

Hello all! Here's the next chapter of Landslide. Thanks once more to you who review! Please keep it up! Reviews are my life bread! 

Those of you who love the twins (I know I do!!) will really enjoy this chapter. Also, this chapter pretty much concludes the portion of the story that's already written. I have the remainder in my head and sketched out on paper. However, if anyone would like to suggest a significant addition or change in direction of this story, please feel free to e-mail me at the address below! I'm not necessarily saying that I'll change anything, but I'll certainly give any and all suggestions some serious thought. 

Thanks again! Please enjoy and review!

Landslide

Chapter IV  
  


By Nekomegami_chan

Nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com__

_Well, I've been afraid of changing 'cause I built my life around you  
But time makes you bolder  
Children get older  
I'm getting older, too  
Well I'm getting older too_

Elrohir crouched low, silently stalking his prey through the dense foliage. Elladan's call was the flawless imitation of a raven as it sounded a furlong to his left. His twin was flanking him. They were going to drive the unsuspecting boar into a nearby cliff face in order to corner the beast. The technique was a dangerous one, considering the violent strength of the massive wild pig, but it was a reliable tactic.

            Elrohir checked the fletching on his arrow, notched it to the string, and was only mildly surprised to find himself stifling a yawn.

* * * 

            Elladan had woken him well before dawn, throwing back the bed curtains in a flurry of crimson silk and shining a thick wax candle in Elrohir's sleepy face.

            "Arise, brother!" We are going hunting," Elladan explained with far more cheer than the early hour called for.

            Elrohir blinked in the flickering glow of the tiny fire and scowled at his twin's grinning face. "Be gone!"

            Elladan tugged at the blankets, pulling the swan's down quilt off his brother's slim body. "Nay, dear Elrohir," he said, his expression sobering. "I will not. You _are_ going to accompany me on the hunt today."

            Elrohir rolled onto his side, turning his back on Elladan and murmuring less than polite words. Elladan set the candle on the night stand and took his brother by the arm. Dragging him, with snarled protests from the warm bed to drop him on the floor. Elladan towered over his stubborn twin, not offering to help him up.

            "By Elbereth, Elrohir! I'll not watch you pine away for Legolas another day! He will arrive as soon as he is able, he said as much in his letter. It may well be that the mountain pass he sought to take was blocked, forcing him to retrace his steps for a time. Or else it is possible that he stopped to acquire a gift for you. That he has done before. Anything could have delayed him, and not all is evil," Elladan's tone softened. "It has only been a fortnight. Fear not."

            Elladan finally held out his hand and Elrohir took it saying, "Thank you, Elladan."__

Elladan only smiled in response to the heartfelt gratitude. "Now," he said briskly, "Dress quickly so that we maybegin. Glorfindel insists that his ancient bones are of the opinion that it will snow this afternoon. And I for one, do not wish to be weighted down with a carcass in it."

* * * 

            It had been no trouble to kill the boar, only the ever exhilarating dance of cunning and speed which both elves thoroughly enjoyed. Yet in the breathless aftermath of the kill, Elrohir's thoughts were quickly consumed by Legolas. And once more, without knowing precisely why, Elrohir worried.

* * *

            Legolas' horse arrived late that afternoon. He wore no saddle nor bridle nor any identifying mark but that which was the brand of Rohan, where he had been born and raised. 

            Arod was a pale dapple gray with a finely dished head and a fiery disposition. He had frequently been stabled at Rivendell after the War of the Ring and as such, felt quite comfortable making himself at home there. 

            Elrohir was just bringing his own gelding a square of buttermilk bread leftover from lunch when Arod trotted into the stable yard and let himself into an open stall. Shaking the thin covering of snow off his winter coat, the horse plunged his greedy nose into the manger. 

            After a brief moment of surprise, Elrohir burst out laughing. He laughed until tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. He hadn't meant to do so, but it had felt so good after his two long weeks of anxious waiting. It was only as Elrohir went to offer Arod a square of bread that he fully realized the portent of the horse's arrival. 

            Legolas had decided to cross through the mountains, through passes that could only be reached by foot. That much was obvious. It was the most direct way. That meant that he would have had to have let Arod loose so that the horse could circumvent the steepest terrain. The added distance should have taken Arod several days more, perhaps even half a week longer to navigate, than Legolas' straightforward route. 

            Sobering completely, Elrohir called for the stable master, saying, "Ready my horse for the morn. I will need a traveling saddle, and he will need to be shod so as to grip any ice we may come upon. I will have supplies sent down this evening."

            The short haired stable master bowed and left off the harness he had been polishing. "At once, Young Lord."

* * *

            Elrohir tapped on the door of his father's library. The hour was now late and the Lord of the Last Homely House was taking his leisure among the scrolls there. A glass of fine elven brandy rested on the table at his elbow as he sat in a large leather chair beside the smoldering hearth. 

            "Ada?" Elrohir called. "Might I have a word with you?"

            The elder elf's voice filtered through the solid oak door, quieted yet not muffled by the polished wood. "Enter, my son."

            Elrohir did as he was bidden, closing the door at his back and moving to stand in front of his father. "Ada, I wish to be direct --"

            "That is good," interjected Elrond, looking up from the book he had been pursuing. Elrohir thought it strange that his exquisitely mannered father would so sharply interrupt him, but he said nothing about the odd behavior.

            _"_I am to ride out early tomorrow morning," Elrohir continued, looking Elrond in they eyes. "A shadow plagues my thoughts and my heart is troubled.I had expected Legolas to arrive days ago, he said to look for him from the southeast. He meant to travel through the Misty Mountains. Even with this weather, he should have been here by now."

            Much to Elrohir's astonishment, Elrond closed his book and set it aside. He rose and clasped his son by the shoulder. "Very well, Elrohir. I shall come with you."

            "With me? Father, why?" Elrohir asked, completely taken aback by the unexpected offer. He had been prepared for Elrond's permission, his indifference or even an argument on the grounds that the prince was needed to conduct his affairs of state at his father's side. After all they were helping to orchestrate the departure of the elves from Middle Earth! But this - for this Elrohir found no words to express his confusion. The half-elven Lord of Imladris almost never left his beloved home. 

            "Because mere moments before you knocked I received a message from Galadriel, and of a subject which I was wondering just now how to breach with you..."

            Elrohir felt his chest constrict and his head pounded, making him nauseous. Although he did not wish to ask, he felt he must know. "Legolas - he is dead then? We are to retrieve his remain--"

Elrond swept his son into a tight embrace, petting the slighter elf's long dark hair. "Nay! Nay, he is not dead! Not that we know. Your grandmother, she said only that she had seen Legolas' reflection in her mirror and that he had been waylaid. He is still alive as far as she can tell, but she believes he may have been wounded. Beyond that, she knows not."

            Elrohir broke away from his father's arms. "Very well, then. We shall leave tonight! I will send a servant to -"

            "No, my son.This is why I hesitated to tell you tonight. We must make the proper arrangements to travel. I have already ordered for my healing supplies to be packed into a saddlebag. The maids are gathering extra cloaks and blankets. The cooks are preparing waybread for the morn. We will be of little help to your Legolas if we arrive unprepared." 

            Grudgingly, Elrohir consented.


	5. Chapter V

Landslide

By Nekomegami_chan 

nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com 

Before we get started, I'd like to take the time to reply to a number of the comments made in everyone's reviews. I don't know about all of you, but it just makes you feel good when an author you like responds to you personally. ^ ^ 

Tania: Thanks for being my first reviewer!! And this really /is/ a fun pairing, isn't it? 

Vardalothwen: Don't worry! I won't kill our dear Legolas! After all, it's so much more fun to torture him, right? *evil giggle* 

Lady of Legolas: I'm glad you're enjoying this fic so much! You've reviewed every chapter so far. Thank you and I hope that you continue to read and be entertained by my humble writings! ^ ^ 

Freddie Loves Frodo: Thanks for that great compliment! If you still like this fic maybe you could pass it on to a friend? *Wink* *Nudge* As you know, I'm a sucker for any and all criticisms and feedback! 

Stardust: I'm glad you like my writing style. And I do try very hard to make the dialogue true to the books. To be honest, it's hard but I think that the overall effect is well worth it. 

Renn: Wow! You're so generous in your reviews. Thankies! But don't worry, not only is Elladan going but he gets half a chapter of angst all to himself! 

Goddess of Death: I'm so happy you think my fic is cute. But I wouldn't have thought of it in that term myself. But my goal was to write a slash fic that was as realistic as possible. I wanted to create a story with a believable couple; two masculine figures with three dimensional personalities who sincerely love one another. I also wanted to represent the fact that before they were lovers they were friends. Not just that, however, I knew that I had to make it realistic in that not everyone in the fic is homosexual. That just isn't likely, no matter how many reviews love triangles and multiple pairings may get me. 

Having said that, watch out for low key hints of a Glorfindel/Elrond - that pairing is beginning to grow on me! 

Sorry for the rant and now - to the fic! 

Chapter V 

_So, take this love and take it down  
Year and if you climb a mountain and you turn around  
And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills  
Well the landslide brought me down_

Legolas' knees gave out for the third time in as many steps, and this time he could not gain his feet again. Exhausted and shivering, Legolas came to the realization that he could push his body no further. He dragged himself a few paces to his left so that he could rest his back against a moss and frost encrusted boulder. Panting for breath, he slowly took in his surroundings. 

It was not long after midday, but the grey cloaked sky and the thick mesh of branches imposed an early twilight on the forest floor. There was only the slightest dusting ofsnow on the frozen ground beneath the trees. Birds chirped in a cacophony of tiny wordless voices, searching for food and squirrel hair to fill their nests. Rabbits cautiously made appearances from their narrow dirt tunnels, noses twitching wildly. 

"It's a good thing that good Sam Gamgee isn't here, little friend," he said. "Coneystew is his favorite meal." Talking made Legolascough, sharpening the ache in his broken bones and abused flesh. 

He had begun developing a fever sometime in the night. His clothes had dried on his body as he traveled though wet spots clung to his skin from where he had fallen. His leggings and tunic were stiff and offered little warmth. He dared not light a fire. Still, the second night spent wounded in the wilderness had left him shivering and ill. The snow had fallen only lightlythat evening. However, the bushy shrubbery that had been his hiding place had afforded little shelter from the biting wind. 

The rabbits slowly hopped away, joining their fellows further down the narrow dirt track Legolas traveled. The elf poured the last of the dark and fiery dwarven spirits into his mouth and rested his head back against the boulder. He would rest for a short time and then move on. 

He knew Elrohir would be searching for him by now. He simply had to find the main road that ran through this forest and follow it back towards Imladris. The Valar willing, someone friendly would come upon him before long. 

_  
* * *_

Gentle pink and red split across the periwinkle sky like wine on blue silk. "Odd that a day so wrought with sorrow should begin so softly," Glorfindel murmured to himself. The ancient elf's eyes turned to the huddled form of Elrohir. 

The twin sat quietly, uncharacteristically anxious. His lips set in a tight line; he laced and re-laced his boots. His slender fingers moved with the mechanical stiffness of a weaver's loom. Elladan was behind his brother, braiding the raven hair. He carefully tucked each strand into placed, trying vainly to comfort through the tender touch. When the plaits were complete, the elder twin simply stroked the dark head and kneaded at the tight muscles in Elrohir's neck and shoulders. 

Elrohir finally abandoned the boot laces. He spokequietly, his words for his twins ears alone. "Elladan. In mere moments I will be abandoning the love of my immortal life." He turned around to face his brother. "The grief I have so long feared will come to pass." 

Elladan said nothing. He clutched Elrohir to his chest, cradling him protectively. The eternal light the silver-grey eyes was fading. The sight had been enough to move Elladan to the brink of tears. "We shall find him," he whispered with fierce determination. "Do not give up hope, brother! We need only return for provisions. And the guards of Mirkwood search also, as do the March wardens of Lorien. Nay, do not give up hope! The grief that is father's will not be yours to bear!" 

Elrohir only heaved a sigh that was interrupted by a dry sob. No matter what Elladan had said the previous day. It was his fault entirely that Legolas had fallen into bad fortune. His own pride had caused the visions he had seen to come to pass. His heart wept in mourning, though no tears fell. 

After Elladan's speech the twins sat in silencefor long moments until Glorfindel unobtrusively approached. "It is time to depart," he said, his silver voice floating through the dissipating morning mist. He had given them as much time as possible. The others had long since mounted and made ready to move out. The horses' breath steamed from their nostrils like a dragon's smoky exhalations. The only sounds in the white-swept forest were those of the black crows stirring in their nests and the occasional shift of a heavy equine body in deep snow. 

Elrohir kissed Elladan's high cheek; the wolf fur of his brother's cloak collar brushed his chin. Then he stood and went to mount his horse. Arod sensed his distress and laid his head across Elrohir's lap. A faintsmile ghosted past the elf's dusky pink lips and he scratched the broad forehead. 

Glorfindel placed one hand on Elladan's shoulder as their mounts were passed to them. The younger elf was sure the blond Eldar meant to speak, but no sound escaped him. Then Glorfindel was astride Asfaloth and the big grey was striding to the fore of the party to join Elrond there. 

Elladan's mind was a chaotic torrent of emotion. What had Glorfindel wanted to say but could not? Had the seneschal's hand on his shoulder been meant to offer strength or condolence? 

* * * 

Elladan glanced over at his twin as they rode. He noticed, not for the first time, his brother's increasingly pale complexion. Neither of them had ever been particularly ruddy and this new pallor worried him. Worse, Elrohir's manner was listless and he swayed ever so slightly in the saddle. He had long since abandoned his reins and stirrups in favor of absently petting his mare and Arod. 

Shifting his weight, Elladan slowed his gelding so that his brother would come up alongside him. "Are you well? Would you like to stop and rest?" he inquired though he knew the answer. 

"I am well, thank you. I don't need to rest." 

Elladan's hand hovered near Elrohir's where it rested on Arod's neck. Yet he never touched the gloved fingers. Instead he retreated to his own body space and suppressed a shiver. Elven grief was a palpable thing and it coursed through him now. It radiated from his brother in waves like heat from an oven, twisting around him in sinuous coils to squeeze his broken heart. 

Elladan prayed to the Valar that Legolas would be found alive. He cared deeply for the blond prince, it was true. However, his brother was the one person whom he could not live without. 

He had been feeling the lure of the sea for several years now and yet he had remained for Elrohir's sake. He knew his brother to be still very much in love with Arda and its people, and his dearest wish was to see his brother happy. Since Elladan's only love interest had traveled to Valinor half a century before, he had dedicated his remaining time in Middle Earth to his family. 

His thoughts drifted to her, Surinen called The Elegant. She was tall and strong and as cunning as she was womanly. Elladan had fancied her for centuries before he had had the courage to express his interest. Over time their affection for one another had grown, but before he could make known to her his deepening feelings for her she had announced her impending departure. With many promises of loyalty to one another they had parted. Now Surinen  waited patiently for his arrival. 

Yet when their sister had taken on the burden of mortality in order to be with Estel, Elladan had strengthened his resolve to remain so long as Arwen lived. He suffered bouts of the one and only elvish "disease" from time to time, when affairs at Imladris occasionally slowed from their frantic pace. However, hose times were becoming increasingly frequent as more of his people sailed to the West. Even now, as he was reminded of it he felt the stirring in his blood that marked his affliction. 

Somewhere beside him as if from a great distance, Elladan heard Elrohir make a small noise. It was a barely audible moan, there was no mistaking that. Elladan's gaze sought his brother once more. His twin's cheeks were damp with tiny silver tear tracks that welled up from the edges of his eyes. Eyes that were hazy and unfocused, yet moved as if following something through the bushes on the side of the path they traveled. Elladan knew not if his brother saw visions or simply dreamt of memories. Either way he began to sing softly, his voice moving with the rolling rhythm of their horse's footfalls. 

His sea-longing forgotten, Elladan rode on. 

* * * 

It was nearing mid afternoon when the scouts reported riders ahead on the road near the edge of the forest. Beneath the shadow dappled canopy of the overhanging evergreens the party from Rivendell came upon a contingent of elves wearing the colours and dress of Greenwood the Great, once called Mirkwood and now restored. "Hail!" called Glorfindel as Elrond ordered a halt. 

"Hail!" came the reply. It was a regal elf with cropped golden hair who had returned the greeting. He was taller than most, his broad back straight as the arrows carried there. The fair head was held high, but the almond eyes were weary. 

"Well met, King Thranduil," Elrond said, inclining his head as the Greenwood elves drew nearer. 

"What news of Prince Legolas, my Lord?" Elrohir roused himself from his memories and angled closer. 

"I could ask the same of you," Thranduil returned coldly. He purposely left out name and title in response to the young elf's rude behaviour. 

The slight was ignored by all present and forgotten completely as soon as Elrond spoke again. "We had found signs of a fight and an avalanche further into the mountains this very morning." 

"Did you dig at all?" Elrohir asked. 

"Nay," the thin elf from Greenwood denied. "The drifts were too deep and the mountain too steep. To dig might well have initiated another landslide." 

"But what if he had been there?" Elrohir's brief surge of hope was swiftly melting into despair once more. 

Thranduil shook his head. "Our hounds searched the area and the only scent they found was at least two days old. However, there was bloody snow under a pine tree at the bottom of the avalanche and our dogs assured us that it was that of my son." 

"Why did you not say this before? Mayhap he was carried off by foul orcs after he was wounded!" Elrohir interrupted again. 

"Peace brother," Elladan cautioned. 

King Thranduil eyed the twins and continued smoothly. "Legolas is above all a warrior. As such he will always fight to survive," he declared with pride. "We discovered that a tree branch had been severed and stripped of its needles. The tree whispered of the blond elf it had sheltered and expressed protective feelings towards the one it had sacrificed its branch for. Legolas is on the move, or was. Unfortunately any other indications as to his whereabouts were lost due to the more recent snowfall. The noses of our dogs have led us thus far. I believe he is still trying to reach Imladris." 

"Then let us continue at once! He may yet be nearby!" Elladan felt life stir in his deadened breast. 

The unknown elf who had spoken before shook his head. He pointed to the hounds that sat near his horses' hooves. "They lost the scent going through the creek two leagues southwest from here. We picked up the road hoping that Legolas would have sought the path of least resistance, despite the openness of it." 

Glorfindel met Elrond's dark eyes then nodded sagely. 

"Aye," said the Lord of Rivendell. "He'll know we'll be searching for him. Let us hope that our speculations are so, for Legolas is oft unpredictable at best." 

_* * *_

Panting with pain he gathered his determination around him once again and stepped onto the well maintained highway. He was relieved to find fresh horse manure, such a sign meant that the road had been used recently and substantially increased his chance of being rescued. 

The deer path Legolas had been following had unexpectedly taken him much further along the main road to Imladris than he had anticipated. Perhaps it was his fever muddled brain that had caused him to miss the more direct track he had intended to use.Catching his bearings he noticed the subtle elven mile marker and was surprised to find that he was less than half a day's walk from Rivendell. 

He smiled, and grit his teeth. The worst was soon to be over. 

_* * *_

Have no fear this fic is far from done! 

More lovely angst to come! 

Thanks for reading but please review! 

Or else I'll have to hurt you! 

Just kidding of course! Luv you all, l8r! 

  
  



	6. Chapter VI

Thanks for being so patient waiting for this chapter. But I'm out of school for the summer now and I managed to pass all of my final exams. Unfortunately, it's not beta read so let me know if there are any errors, okay?

Also, you all have Stardust to thank for pointing out my spelling error in the previous chapter! ^^ A least, I know I do! But don't worry, it's all fixed now!

Thanks again for all of you who continue to read and review! I'll have a bit more time to write now, so as soon as the next chapter is done I'll post that one too. And now, onto the fic!

Landslide

By Nekomegami_chan

Nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com

            Powdery snow swirled around the horses' legs, dusting them with white. The woods were alive with game around them. Quail scratched at the exposed roots of trees for bugs. Deer and elk passed close to the elves without fear. 

            Elrohir watched his father and Glorfindel through half lidded eyes. They rode on his right and a few steps ahead, though he noticed each of the elder elves glanced back at him frequently. On his left, Elladan rode level with him. His twin had tried to cut off Arod several times but the animal refused to be pushed away from Elrohir and hovered protectively by. 

* * *

            Elrond forced his gaze back to the path ahead. Elrohir grew worse with each passing hour that they did not find the blonde prince. He noticed that his son's breathing had become progressively shallower until now it seemed as if Elrohir were panting in pain. And with each little puff of breath that escaped into the cooling air, the twin's milky skin became increasingly pale. Pale but for the bright spots that lingered at the tops of his cheeks. 

            Scouts and Thranduil's dogs were constantly on the move, their calls to Legolas echoing through the thick air. They fanned out to the sides and rear of the main body of the elves, sweeping through the underbrush on foot and acting as a rear guard, though no one really expected to be attacked so close to Imladris.

            "My Lord," Glorfindel said, obviously not for the first time by the lazy tone of his voice. "My Lord Elrond."

            "I beg your pardon, Glorfindel," Elrond apologized, coming back to himself at once. "You were saying?"

            Glorfindel eyed him with a little suspicion before continuing. "I was only noticing how different this scene is from when we started out, only three days ago. Then, everyone yelled out Legolas' name and Elrohir rode at the front, working his mount into a lather. Now he sways in the saddle and will not speak."

            "I had just been meditating on those same thoughts, old friend," sighed Elrond. 

            Glorfindel nodded somberly," Yes, but what do you plan to do about it?" 

            "I know not," the dark haired lord replied, rubbing his forehead. "I know not."

* * *

             Thranduil nudged his mount into a trot and the rest of the party picked up their pace as well. It was getting on into twilight and they still had several leagues to cover if they were to reach Rivendell ere night fell. Elrohir let his horse bear him along in silence. He desperately fought against the urge to weep. He longed to be held by his father and brother in the privacy of their apartments and to be comforted. Yet he knew that even that was beyond his reach now. He had inherited his sire's stubborn pride, the same that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. 

            His thoughts turned abruptly from his own suffering to Legolas'. His most pressing fear was that his beloved was still alive somewhere in these woods, unable to cry out for help. And if he was dead...Elrohir's hands shook as the morbid images of what might have been paraded past his inner eye. Legolas had been injured; had he been in much pain?

            Despite his efforts, tears long unshed spilled gracefully from Elrohir's dark eyes. He was thankful for the braids at his temples which helped to hide his face. Legolas! His heart sobbed in his chest, throbbing painfully. He had been harsh with his lover before they had last parted. He regretted to the innermost depths of his soul each and every syllable he had uttered that day. Not one word had been of support or love. He had been so frightened, so terribly afraid and then he had withdrawn. He hadn't even said farewell! He had foreseen doom, but when Legolas had survived the quest to destroy the One Ring, Elrohir had not tried to contact him at once like he should have. His sensitivities had been bruised when Legolas had swept aside his sincere requests like so much chaff. It had taken a powerful dream to convince him that it was time he let go of his pride and remind Legolas of how much he still cared. 

            And now...it was too late.

            With a stifled moan Elrohir lowered himself to his horse's neck, her mane quickly becoming wet with his tears. They broke forth like water from a winter weakened dam. He could feel his heart shattering as he sobbed, every fiber of his being consumed with grief for his lost love.

            Some part of Elrohir was disgusted with his weak behaviour. He was a hunter, a trained fighter and a prince of elves! To be reduced so thoroughly in front of others was unbecoming and lacking in strength of character. To have negatively affected his family was an even worse offense. The look of concern in his brother's eyes was chilling as Elladan dismounted and came to pull his twin into his arms. Little did Elrohir know that the haunted expression that he saw was merely a poor reflection of his own haunted face.

            Thranduil called a halt, cutting off Elrond and swiftly covering the short distance to where Elladan cradled his brother. "How dare you!" he roared. "You act as if it were you who was dying, not /my/ son! I'll give you a reason to cry..." Thranduil threatened, preparing to backhand Elrohir.

            Elrond caught the blonde king's hand as it descended in a leather clad arc then shoved him backwards and away from his children. "Do not ever raise a hand to me and mine again, Thranduil, unless you want to incur the fullness of my wrath!" Elrond growled menacingly.

            The king of Mirkwood snarled back, "If it were not for you and yours I would not be grieving for my youngest child you half-breed imbecile!"

            Before the two lords could come to blows Glorfindel leapt between them with a mighty shout. The Eldar's hair and cloak fanned out around him and he radiated a shimmering white aura of immense power. All movement stopped and the air of the forest grew heavy with waiting. 

            "That is enough!" Glorfindel declared his anger and its luminescent expression fading quickly. Satisfied that he now had everyone's full attention he continued, his voice softer, but still with the firm edge of a father disciplining his rambunctious sons. "Thranduil, you are a good king and a loving parent - but do not blame others for what is the fault of none. I think that you owe an apology to everyone present."

            "I will not be ordered about, not even by the likes of you _Glorfindel_!" Thranduil sneered the Eldar's name. "I am righteous in my retribution, this one," he pointed an accusing finger at Elrohir who watched the scene from behind glassy eyes, "this one corrupted my son! Turned his innocent and youthful infatuation into an abomination!"

            Elladan was shocked. He had always known the Mirkwood king to be outspoken and somewhat harsh in his words yet he found himself appalled at the serious charges Thranduil now heaped upon his brother's head. Corruption of the young was a crime punishable by banishment. He was far more surprised by what happened next. The weight of his brother's body left him abruptly as Elrohir staggered to his feet. 

            "I did no such thing!" Elrohir shouted, his tears of grief now mingling with those of anger. "I love him! And he loves me as well! I have never - " Elrohir paused in mid-sentence, his mouth closing with a small choked sound. He stared beyond Thranduil's right shoulder and hesitantly took a half step forward on shaky knees. 

            "Elrohir?" Elladan whispered.

            With a pained and wordless cry Elrohir pushed past the blonde king, past Glorfindel and his father. Finding new strength he picked up speed until he was sprinting down the narrow forest track. Something quickened inside his chest and he felt his head clear somewhat.

            Elladan rose as well, moving to stand beside Elrond. "By Elbereth!" he swore softly, his spirit lifting. "Father! It's him!"

            The rest of the elven party watched with baited breath as Elrohir slowed and embraced another figure silhouetted black against the dying sun. The two bodies in the distance melted together and for a single, long moment all who watched sighed in relief. But that relief was to be regretfully short lived as one of the figures crumpled, dragging both to their knees. 

            Then came the hoarse wail that once more launched the world into motion around them. "Ada! Come quickly!"

* * * 

**EVIL LAUGHTER**

Please don't forget to review. I hope you all liked this chapter. I wrote it in just two nights, a record time for me!

If enough people are still interested after the next few chapters than I could easily be persuaded to write more with this pairing. What do you think? I have some other stories connected to this one rampaging through my head. ^^

Love 'ya all! Bye bye!


	7. Chapter VII

I'm in shock -so many reviews! Thanks everyone! But under pain of being considered evil and more seriously, badong, I have been moved to write again. Also, as weird as this may seem, my Kazaa downloads are much faster when I'm typing- I'm not kidding! ^ ^ Anyway, once more this chapter isn't beta read, so anyone who points out an error gets a cybercookie!!

So, without further ado.... 

Landslide__

By NekoMegami_chan

Nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com

            Silence. A leaden hush blanketed the contingent of elves who stood on the road to Rivendell. No one stirred.

            Time stretched. An Age passed in the space of a single breath. Two dozen immortal hearts fluttered and skipped a beat as the last of Elrohir's wavering cry fell away. 

            It was Arod who brought the party back to its collective senses. His nostrils flared at the scent of his master's blood and the whites of his eyes showed. Then he squealed and snorted, his teeth flashing out in all directions. With a great push off of his powerful hindquarters the fiery grey raced forward, shouldering past Elrond and Thranduil. The two elven lords joined the horse at once, their feet hardly touching the frozen dirt. 

            Taking charge Glorfindel ordered Elrond's healing supplies be given to him, and that the rest of the company be ready to move out at a moment's notice. All quickly obeyed without question. 

* * *

            Thranduil was particularly swift of foot and he reached the huddled lovers several seconds ahead of Elrond. The tall blonde slid to a stop, going down on his knees and shoving Arod's head away. Elrond watched in horror as Thranduil swiftly stole Legolas from Elrohir's embrace. The wounded elf gasped in pain, his eyes squeezing tightly shut.  

            "You fool!" Elrond declared, his voice rose in anger as he gently collected his own son. "You'll only injure him further! What kind of a father are -" he stopped in mid-sentence; his hands supporting Elrohir's back grew still.

            Tears shimmered in the proud king's eyes. Orange and red from the day's last light filled them with fire as they spilled over long auburn lashes. He clutched at Legolas, pulling his son firmly against his broad chest. Elrond knew that Thranduil had lost numerous loved ones over the millennia and the dark haired elflord was suddenly reminded of the cause of the king's coldness. It was a mask. The greed, the desire for control, the sharp tongue - all of it. 

            Elrond brushed those thoughts away as soon as Legolas began to groan and shift uncomfortably in his father's arms. Thranduil tried to soothe him, petting the blonde head and whispering words of comfort. Legolas only attempted to push away as he moaned Elrohir's name.

            Having crested, Elrond's ire ebbed. Yet his sense of urgency and fear for both the stricken elves' condition grew stronger. With a sigh he surrendered Elrohir into his brother's care and stood to face Thranduil. "You are hurting him Thranduil." Elrond gestured to the litter that was being unfolded just to their left. "Lay him down so that I can determine exactly how hard we're going to have to work to keep Legolas alive."

* * * 

            Elrond helped Thranduil arrange the wounded prince on the litter, supporting his head with a folded cloak. At his elbow, Glorfindel was already unpacking rolls of bandages and setting out Elrond's jars of liniments and salves. A kind faced Mirkwood elf brought several blankets for Elrohir and Legolas, as well as a sheet of oilcloth for Elrond to kneel on. Glorfindel motioned the elven ranger closer and gave him the task of riding ahead in order to alert Erestor at Rivendell that their lord and the wounded prince of Greenwood would be arriving within the hour.

            The elves of the joined search parties sat astride their horses or stood in small clusters, though few words were whispered among them. Every pair of eyes followed Elrond's movements, making the Lord of Imladris wish that they would turn away. It was not the first time he had felt apprehension over his unofficial title as the best healer in all of Middle Earth. It made people expect things. They often brought their grievances to him, believing him capable of spewing forth miracles from his fingertips. He put such thoughts aside as he set himself to his task, speaking his mind for the sake of those nearest to him. He attempted to be as clinical as possible, so as not to give false hope.

            A feverish blush stained Legolas' pale cheeks. Taking off his gloves, Elrond confirmed his suspicions by laying the back of one hand over the prince's forehead. Then his eyes widened slightly in surprise, "His fever - it is not so high as I had thought. Still, he is in peril from this alone."

            Elrohir trembled lightly in his brother's gentle grasp. "What of his injuries, father?"

            Elrond's hands carefully roamed Legolas' damaged body. "His upper left arm is broken and the swelling quite severe." Elrond gently probed his patient's ribs. "Bruised on the left side," he muttered, "But no cracks, it seems."

            Glorfindel wrung a clean rag in water from a canteen. "That is good news."

            Noticing something amiss with the shape of Legolas' left hip, Elrond undid the unconscious elf's breeches to expose the injured joint. The flesh was a deep and puffy purple. Legolas moaned and thrashed his head when the healer applied even light pressure. "His hip - it's crushed!" Elrond whispered in disbelief. "He should not have been able to walk!"

            "I told you! My son is a strong warrior," Thranduil declared with a note of triumph in his voice. 

            "That is all well and good," Elrond replied curtly. "But I fear that having so long traveled upon such an injury may leave him with a limp. And there is no telling if it has put pressure or pieces of bone into his internal organs."

            Elrond instantly regretted his hasty words when he saw Elrohir blanch. His son's grey eyes grew dark with worry and his ashen lips became a thin line. "Have faith, Elrohir," Elladan murmured, rocking his brother. "Father will make him well." The grief-stricken elf only sighed shakily and blinked back tears that he would not let fall again.

            Elrond took a deep breath and continued his examination. Legolas' right shin was a mess of bloody rags. Cutting the damp and soiled cloth away he uncovered the gruesome wound beneath. Raw strips of flesh were barely held in place by the blood that had congealed there. A greenish-white puss oozed past the broken skin in places; a sickening testimony to the infection that resided there. 

            Glorfindel's breath caught in his throat. Thranduil felt ill and Elrohir hid his face in his twin's shoulder with a strangled sob. 

            Elrond instantly reached for the wet cloth his seneschal had prepared and dabbed at the wound, gently cleaning away debris. Then he applied a thick salve and wrapped the ugly wound in white bandages. 

            It was almost completely dark now. An owl hooted nearby before taking flight. Elrond had no desire to finish such delicate work out of doors and at night. "We must leave. Now! I will tend to him further when we are all safely back at Imladris. Glorfindel, please give the signal to move out." 

            The Elda inclined his head and rose to shoo everyone into position and to requisition a quartet of litter-bearers. Four Greenwood elves promptly volunteered and went to the aid of their prince, whom all greatly admired.

            "Elladan, pack up my things while I get your brother safely on your mare. Then you can climb up behind him," Elrond instructed while helping his youngest son to stand as the older twin moved to obey him.

            "I do not want to mount, Father," Elrohir said, somewhat breathlessly. "I wish to stay with Legolas. He has need of me!"

            "I know, my son. Yet how well can you serve him if you are barely able to remain upright?" Elrond's voice was quiet and filled with understanding.

            "I am well enough -" Elrohir protested, even as his knees gave out beneath him.

            Elrond easily picked his child up and settled him Arod, who had remained. "My dear Elrohir, it pains me to see you suffer so! I too have known this grief, that of a true love in danger of their life. I had so long hoped you would never feel its deadly sting. I regret what has happened, but I vow to do my utmost to restore Legolas to you."

            "Thank you," Elrohir murmured as Elladan swung up behind. Then he was riding away. Slowly at first, than Arod began to trot, his nimble feet avoiding the potentially treacherous dips and hollows in the ancient dirt road. And Elladan was singing quietly in his ear to comfort him. Elrohir let the tears come again.

* * *    

            Thranduil stayed at his son's side even as he was lifted by the litter bearers and carried off. The king gently held Legolas' hand and spoke softly, though he later remembered little of what he had said. Mostly he attempted to hide his substantial worry by demanding that Legolas survive.

            "I am awake Father," Legolas said after a particularly strong oath from the distraught king of elves. "And I fully - intend to live..." He ground out through clenched teeth as another wave of agony ripped through him. "So ple-ase, be quiet!"

            Elrond suppressed a laugh. His humor was short lived, however. Legolas' very life still hung precariously in the balance; that he would still breathe ere the sun rose next was not a certain thing. He urged the party to move faster through the cloak the darkness and the mist that was rising through the ground. Elrond had a promise to keep.

* * *

Question. Is anyone interested in doing any fan art to illustrate this story? It's also being posted on The Library of Moria - which if you are an LOTR slash fan - is like winning the lotto. The address is www.libraryofmoria.com! Go! I command you!! Go! Anyway, they also accept fan art and the "in thing" is to put up illustrations to go along with your story. However, I don't have time to be doing that. So if anyone would like to do some art for this fic, please send it to my email address listed above. Those who do will get chapters dedicated to them as a thank you! 

Perhaps that was a pit pretentious of me...I hope not.

As always, please review and let me know what you think!


	8. Chapter VIII

I'm so glad that everyone is enjoying this fic still! I can't thank all of you enough for your kind reviews. It just makes my day when I read them, and it most certainly inspires me to write more.

Anyway, I'm sorry this update took so long but I wasn't happy with it and I ended up re-writing it twice. And you know what? I still don't like it much... Ah well, please enjoy nevertheless. Maybe I'll re-work and re-post it later, eh?

Landslide

By NekoMegami_chan

Nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com

            Leoglas faded in and out of awareness. His entire body ached, making his throughts difficult to focus. He knew he was moving, though not under his own power. Someone was talking and holding his hand too tightly for comfort. 

            A harsh demand for him to survive, accompanied by a string of oaths in Westron dragged Legolas from his revrie. Thranduil, his father; he would know those curses anywhere. "I am awake Father. And I fully - intend to live..." Legolas forced the words past the pain that threatened to send him spiraling down into unconsciousness. "So ple-ase, be quiet!"

            Thranduil shut his mouth, suddenly at a loss for words. Across the stretcher Elrond smiled. Yet when Legolas twisted in another spasm of agony, his lips turned down and his forehead creased. Elrond quickened his pace and the litterbearers followed his lead. 

            Regaining control of his failing body, Legolas had a sudden flash of memory. Elrohir! He had found him! His eyes snapped open, though he could see little for the thick darkness all around. "Elrohir!" Legolas coughed. "Where is he? Elrohir!"

            Elrond rushed to place a cool palm on Legolas' brow. "He is nearby and in Elladan's capable hands. He is resting, as you should be." 

            Legolas subsided, his eyes sliding shut. Elrond never glossed over the truth and the young prince had long admired the healer's honesty in the face of adversity. If Elrohir was resting safely in his brother's care, than he could cease to worry. 

* * *

            Thranduil wrenched his eyes away from his son's sleeping face and redirected them to the shadowy ground just ahead. He had seen Legolas injured before. Never to this extent. The sight shook him to the very core of his being. It rocked the long and dearly held illusions he had created. Illusions of his invinciblity and security in the immortality of elven lives. 

            "I must appologise for my earlier behavior, Elrond."

            For a brief moment the Lord of the Last Homely House considered not accepting the sincere and contrite admission. Thranduil had raised a hand to his child and belittled him in front of his friends, family and servants. However, the kind soul that resided within the half-elf led him towards the path of forgiveness. "Apology accepted, Thranduil."

            The blonde king pondered the other elf's words, then tear-bright grey eyes met his. "Thank you," Thranduil whispered. "Thank you."

* * *

            The search party arrived at Rivendell while the night was yet young. Stable hands tended to the weary steeds and ushered the visiting warriors to their quarters. All around curious elves peeked their noses out of windows or stared blantantly down from their balconies to observe the rather noisy goings on of the newly arrived contingent.

            Elrond gave orders that Legolas be carried to the Healing House before approaching his own sons. He helped Elrohir to dismount and wrapped a supporting arm around the younger elf's slender waist. Elladan quickly joined them on the ground and sent the horse off to be pastured for the evening.

            "Elrohir, I must make haste to join Legolas. Go with your brother to the kitchens and let Elladan prepare you a plate of something and a cup of hot tea to warm you. I still see the frigid touch of grief upon you," the Lord of Imladris said, petting the dark head pressed into his shoulder.

            "Nay Father!" exclaimed Elrohir. "I must go to Legolas - he is in need of me!"

            "That is true, but you will be of little help to him in your current state," Elrond wisely pointed out. 

            Unable to argue with the obvious truth, Elrohir swiftly changed tactics. "In any case, I do not trust either of you tonight. You claim all you wish of me is that I eat and regain some strength. But I dare not eat nor drink anything you give me. It is sure to be laced with a powerful sleeping potion!"

            "Ai, my son! You know me altogether too well," Elrond sighed, somehow managing to keep a straight face as he discreetly slipped a gauze pouch of herbs down the back of Elladan's tunic. "Very well. Rouse the cook if you will, but I do not want to hear her complaints tomorrow."

            Nodding absently Elrohir allowed himself to be passed back to Elladan once more. He would have liked to protest his handling, but he knew he was too weak to walk on his own. Elrohir caught Elrond's sleeve as his father passed. "You can make him well again, can't you?"

            Elrond found he could not meet his younger son's gaze. The hope, love and fear that shone there were almost too painful to bear. Elrohir's voice was that of the elfling he had been when Elrond's beloved wife had returned from her captivity with the orcs. The child had asked the same question those many years ago. 

            "I shall do my very best!" Elrond vowed now, as then. He could only hope to be more successful this night.

* * *

            Legolas came around reluctantly. He was no longer being carried, or at least all motion had stopped. There was a burning sensation in his extremities that grew rapidly stronger. Fire raced along his limbs, searing his skin and making his blood boil in his veins. He was blind with pain. A horrible thought wedged itself into his mind - perhaps he was burning in the flames of his funeral pryre!

            Legolas cried out and struggled. A weight connected with his chest, pushing him back into liquid heat. He pushed back, blindly desperate. Yet his strength gave out quickly and it was not long before he resigned himself once more into the comforting darkness.

* * *

            Elrond sat back on his heels. The front of his robes were soaked and rapidly cooling. Legolas lay in a bronze tub filled with warm and blood tinted water. Athleas and other healing herbs floated around him, giving off a refreshing scent which invigorated all present. 

            The heated bath had restored a touch of colour to the young warrior's face. It was still too pale for Elrond's liking, yet he dared not order the water be made hotter. The prince had fought the healer and servants as soon as he had been immersed. The long days of exposure to the biting cold of the winter-touched mountains and the wounds that covered his weakened body had made the gentle warmth agony for him. 

            Erestor appeared in the doorway with an armload of fresh towels and a sleeping robe.  He set them aside for the servants to use, drawing the topmost towel from the pile and presenting it to Elrond. "You are quite wet, my lord."

            "What would I do without you Erestor?" Elrond sighed, dabbing at his front.

            "Sprout mildew, of course!" he replied mildly, knowing that Elrond would welcome a lighthearted response. When no quip was returned, Erestor spoke up again. 

            "All will be well, the Valar willing," the raven haired advisor smiled encouragingly down at Elrond. He had always been able to anticipate his lord's every need. Seeing the healer's frown deepen, Erestor's elegant eyebrows pulled together over his long nose. When Elrond was this concerned no one on the house staff slept. 

            One of the maids who had been helping to remove the blonde prince from the bath blushed upon seeing the handsome advisor's thoughtful expression and nearly dropped her charge. Legolas grunted and attempted to get his feet under him, pushing at the elves who held him though his resistance was short lived. Elrond shot the maid a disapproving glance and she promptly began to pat Legolas dry with one of the towels.

            "My lord," Erestor extended a graceful hand.

            Elrond allowed his friend to help him rise and followed Erestor into the next room. A bed was being prepared for Legolas' occupation and  Elrond's surgical suplies were already arranged on a table reserved for that purpose.

            "Where has Glorfindel gone off to?" Elrond asked as the semi-conscious prince was laid on the bed, the sleeping robe Erestor had brought hanging loosely about him. 

            "He is seeing to the needs of our guests," Erestor replied succinctly.

  
            "Ever the diplomat. I can always count on him to make things run as smoothly as possible. What of Thranduil?"

            "I am here," the king interjected, heaving himself up from a chair at the far end of the infirmary. "I knew there was nothing I could do to help, so I removed myself. I would not become an obstruction, but I am at your service Lord Elrond."

            With a sigh, Elrond sat down at Legolas' bedside and prepared himself to enter a healer's trance. "Very well then. Shall we begin?"

* * *


	9. Chapter IX

You were all so nice to review chapter eight! I was so relieved to find that everyone thought it was up to par. Nevertheless I hope that this chapter will be even better. It features everyone's favorite twins and a new dose of brotherly love (no twincest of course! Sorry, but /yuck/!). Anyway, on with the fic!

Landslide

Chapter IX

By NekoMegami_chan

Nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com

            The halls of the Last Homely House were quiet. Those elves who chose not to walk the paths of their dreams seldom wandered about. Yet the peace of the snow-touched night was interrupted by the noises which overflowed the estate's infirmary. Light burst from the doorways and seeped past the curtains to pool in the winter muted garden. 

            Elrohir stumbled despite his twin's strong arm and he steadied himself by placing one hand on a frosted window. He paused to peer though it and saw the gentle yellow glow emanating from the Healing House. 

            He had given up on Legolas back in the woods. He had expected to never see his beloved's face again. He had resigned himself to his own death at the hands of grief. So much had changed in the last few hours. Legolas was found, and still his fate was uncertain. And Elrohir, though he resented needing Elladan's constant support to keep from collapsing, knew that he was severely weakened by his wounded heart. 

            "Come now, brother. It is not much farther to the kitchens," Elladan said encouragingly. 

            Elrohir only nodded and pushed away from the window. The cold from the glass was making him ache and he rubbed his chilled hand against his thigh. He was unaccustomed to feeling the cold, yet another testament to his sadly impaired state. 

            Correctly reading his brother's expression, Elladan sighed as he nudged kitchen door open with the toe of his boot. "There is no shame in your condition. It is only natural after what you have endured. Even Father, as strong as he is, was not immune."

            "I am aware of that," Elrohir replied tiredly, dropping into an old chair. He ran his fingers lightly over the mismatched table. He absently traced the plethora of scrapes and gouges that had been made in the polished wood by the cook's knives over the past century or so. 

            Unsure of what to say, Elladan simply rapped thrice on the door that led to the servant's quarters. A moment later a dainty scullery maid with long brown hair appeared. Her expression was cross ere she was able to make out the features of her nighttime caller by the light of the taper she carried. 

            "My lord!" She gasped. "I am sorry! What brings you thus?"

            "Ill tidings, I'm afraid," Elladan smiled disarmingly. "My brother is in need of a meal and tea. Alas he fears I will attempt to drug him if I were to prepare him a plate of something." He winked and pressed the pouch Elrond had given him into the maid's hand, which he then took and used to lead her nonchalantly into the kitchen. "I was hoping you would do us the honor."

            She met his gaze knowingly and closed the door behind her. "At once my lord!" She quickly lit the lamps that ringed the large room from her taper before stirring the hearth to life. "Ah does this mean that Prince Legolas has been recovered? Master Elrohir has not been eating much these past weeks," she added with a blush.

            Elrohir groaned inwardly, embarrassed that the servants knew so much about his personal affairs. He supposed it was to be expected. Even among the most highly bred elves, gossip traveled swiftly.

            "Yes. But please, food and drink are needed at once," Elladan said with firm kindness.

            The maid blushed again and put a kettle of water on to boil. 

* * *

            Thranduil watched in fascination as Elrond closed his eyes and began to glow with an inner brilliance like that of a star. The healer's dark hair was suddenly swept up by a gentle wind and the pleasant smell of spring rain filled the room. 

            It did not take Elrond long to find and draw from the wellspring of power at the center of his being. Opening his eyes he let the healing energy flow through him and into his every movement. He was vaguely aware of Erestor waiting at his right hand as he reached for the curved needle and spool of cat-gut thread that lay on the table. 

            Singing under his breath he soothed away Legolas' last tenuous hold on consciousness. When he was certain that the prince was safe and beyond the reach of pain, Elrond began his work in earnest. Laying the torn flesh of his patient's shin back in its proper place he began to stitch. 

            Thranduil felt his stomach clench. The small silver needle wove in and out of his son's pale and bloody skin. Elrond was singing and acting as if he were no more than a woman practicing her needlework at the evening hearth. He found the little scene more sickening than the carnage of a battlefield. 

            Erestor noticed Thranduil's strained expression and gestured towards the door. His gentle suggestion was met by a hostile glare. Erestor only brushed the king's oppressive stare from him like so much dust. He recognized that it was Thranduil's nature to repel fear with anger. He smiled brightly in response and Thranduil promptly ceased to meet his eyes.

            Elrond was unaware of the silent communication which was being conducted over his head. His life force trickled into Legolas with a carefully regulated flow. Gently he opened the conduit a little further and reached out mentally, looking for the prince's spirit. 

            It was not long until Elrond encountered Legolas. The young elf was like a ghost in his own mind, lost and confused. He looked carefully in all directions - obviously searching for something. When he noticed Elrond, he called out, but his words were little more than whispers. 

            Elrond tried to move closer and extended a friendly hand. Legolas threw up his arms defensively and Elrond met a weak resistance. Fearing to hurt Legolas further, Elrond retreated, realizing that he was not recognized. Cursing himself he clarified his spirit image, filling in the details that he had unconsciously left out. 

            The warrior prince relaxed and seemed to settle. He smiled at Elrond, though his translucent face wavered uncertainly. His lips formed the words, "Please tell Elrohir I love him."

            "I will," Elrond promised. "Though I am sure he would rather you tell him yourself. Be strong, Legolas."

            Having finished the stitches, over one hundred in all, Elrond withdrew back into his own body. He tied off the remainder of the string and handed the spool and needle to Erestor. Sitting back, Elrond stretched the tightened muscles in his neck, wiping sweat from his brow. Then, with the utmost care so as not to damage his work, Elrond packed Legolas' lower leg with a thick wrap of heated herbs before bandaging him from knee to ankle. 

            Elrond stopped singing and let out a long sigh. There was still much to do ere the young prince was out of danger. Yet suppressing the nasty infection in Legolas' injured leg had already taken much of his strength.

            Seeing Elrond begin to tremble with fatigue, Erestor placed one hand on his lord's shoulder. With an almost shy gesture King Thranduil followed the advisor's lead, resting his palm on Elrond's other shoulder. 

            The Lord of Imladris felt fresh energy pour into him. There were two distinct frequencies. Erestor's he knew, his friend and advisor had aided him thus many times before. He was surprised to feel what could only have been Thranduil's spiritual force. Powerful and pulsing with life and so cold it burned. "Thank you, my friends," Elrond murmured and began his efforts anew.

            "I'm not your friend. What I do, I do for the sake of my son," Thranduil declared icily. He wanted there to be no misunderstanding between them.

            Elrond pointedly ignored Thranduil's remarks. He was still engaged in forcing down the fever in the blonde's exhausted body. His attentions traveled to Legolas' left arm where the white bone had broken through the layers of muscle and skin. Guiding the splintered bone back to the correct angle he pulled sharply, snapping it back into place.

            Legolas let out a tortured scream and threw his other arm across his face as if to block out the pain. Elrond patiently soothed him, singing once more and eased away the hurt. When his patient was quiet once more, he used a plank of polished cedar to splint the bone and tightly secured the appendage to Legolas' chest. 

            "Now for the delicate work," Elrond smiled wryly as his eyes settled on the prince's crushed hip.

* * * 

            Elrohir's vision swam. At first he was sure his exhaustion had finally overcome him completely. Yet as the sweet taste of the tea he had just consumed faded, only to be replaced by the unmistakable tang of a sleeping draught. 

            Too drugged to be as furious as he wanted to be, Elrohir pushed himself away from the table and nearly overturned his bowl of broth. He staggered to his feet, the ceramic mug crashing to the polished floor as it fell from nerveless fingers.

            Elladan caught his brother before he could fall. He lifted Elrohir, his twin's dark head lolling against his shoulder. "Forgive me, brother," he whispered even as Elrohir's breathing became deeper and his tired eyes fluttered closed. "It is in your best interest to sleep thus. Besides, Ada made me do it."

            Elrohir moaned, Legolas' name ghosting across his lips as his body succumbed to the powerful draught. Elladan slipped into the hall and headed for their rooms. 

* * *

            I had wanted to write more for this chapter, but I decided that all of you nice readers were due for some more story. Look for the next chapter by Wednesday or Thursday. That's not a promise mind you, but I'll do my best. 

            As always, thanks for reading! And please remember to review on your way out. ^_^


	10. Chapter X

Woo hoo!! Chapter 10 has arrived! This is the longest and most involved fic I've ever written. And it's all thanks to you wonderful people who have continued to read and review. I never would have been motivated enough to come so far if weren't for everyone's encouragement. Thanks again!

Landslide

Chapter X

By NekoMegami_chan

Nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com

            Glorfindel rubbed his face with his hands. He was emotionally and physically drained. Settling the visiting elves from Greenwood into their quarters had been trying, to say the least. His nearly inexhaustible patience was worn dangerously thin. 

            Taking a deep breath, the Elda pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against and made for the kitchen. He was desperately in need of a glass of strong wine, and perhaps a trencher of bread with cheese. Glorfindel was certain that Elrond would appreciate some food and drink as well. The healer often forgot such basic necessities of life when tending to a patient.

            He was quite shocked when he entered the kitchens and nearly ran into a maid. She was carefully sweeping up the shattered remains of a ceramic mug. A half eaten bowl of stew sat atop the table and the chair in front of it was badly askew.

            "Is something the matter Lord Glorfindel?" The maid asked; although truth be told she had no desire to hear his answer.

            "One could ask you the same thing," he replied, wishing that he could remember her name. He knew that she had been in the service of Elrond's house for half a century at least. He considered it to be in poor taste to not know one's own servants. 

            "My lord Elrohir and Elladan have only just left," her voice was small and meek. "Lord Elladan bade me prepare tea and a meal for his brother with this," she retrieved a small wet sack from her apron pocket and offered it to him.

            Glorfindel took it and held it to his nose, sniffing lightly. "I can deduce what happened next," he said, recalling his previous assessment of the room. Neither of the twins took well to being drugged. He shrugged the incident off and continued. "Make up a try of whatever is left of dinner whilst I fetch a bottle of drink, please."

            "Shall I have it taken to My Lord's chambers?" The maid propped her broom up against the table. She was beginning to question her position at the Last Homely House. Hardly a fortnight passed that she wasn't awoken in the night to serve her lords, all of whom seemed prone to accidents and odd nocturnal gatherings. Perhaps she should request a season of leave to visit her cousin in the Golden Wood? So absorbed was she in her private ponderings that she nearly missed Glorfindel's answer.

            "Nay, bring the food to the western wing of the Healing House. Now, if you will excuse me?" Glorfindel politely inclined his head, took a candle from its sconce, and disappeared down the short flight of stairs that led to the wine cellar. 

            The maid gathered her long night dress around her and tied on a starched white apron. Yes, she decided as she set a variety of cold meats, cheeses and rolls on a platter, it was far too long since she had visited her kin. 

            Glorfindel reemerged moments later with a bottle of strong red liquor. "I regret to inform you that your services may yet be needed this night. Please remain available," it was less a request and more a demand. Glorfindel threw one golden braid back over his shoulder and departed, taking the candle with him.

            Her mahogany eyes smoldering, the maid added a last slice of fruit to the tray and began to organize her traveling plans.   

* * *

            Elladan tugged the quilt over his brother's prone form. Turning down the lamps he climbed into the bed beside Elrohir. They had often shared a room after their mother had sailed for Valinor. Arwen had even joined them for the first few weeks before she had been sent to Lorien to be raised by their grandparents. Elrond had been to absorbed in battling his own grief to properly attend to theirs,

Drawing Elrohir into a loose embrace, Elladan studied his twin. The normally glowing skin was still white, though his lips had regained a hint of color. Elrohir's eyes were red and swollen from the bitter tears he had shed. The straight black lashes lay against his high cheeks; Elrohir was far too deeply sedated and exhausted to sleep with his eyes open. For his brother's sake, Elladan hoped Elrohir did not dream - for no dream he might have this night could possibly be pleasant.

            "You are my brother and my best friend. I have never wished you aught but happiness," he whispered. "Even when we fought as children and I got you into trouble I always felt so wretched afterwards for having hurt you. You are the only thing that keeps me in this world. You must come back to me Elrohir, weather or not all goes well with Legolas."

            Elladan resisted the urge to weep and steadied himself. It was unlikely that Elrond would call for them before midday; he should allow himself to rest. He pressed his forehead into Elrohir's shoulder and let his mind drift. 

* * *

            The dense fog began to dissipate. Tendrils of clinging mist swirled away from his feet as he walked. He had heard a sound, echoing through the bleak greyness. A presence, like a voice and easily as recognized. "Elrond!"

            A light appeared in the distance. It was dim and cast only a feeble white light over the surrounding mist. Legolas picked up a jog but found that he tired quickly. His breath came in short gasps and after only a short distance he was forced to his knees. Waves of pain shook him like a ravenous wolf. He cried out in frustration and staggered towards the light.

            He could hear Elrond calling for him now, words of support and encouragement. There were other essences as well, though their voices were silent. Legolas was saddened to know that Elrohir was not among them.

            Nevertheless, the warrior prince fought his weakness. He gathered his courage and set his will before him as a shield. He had come too far to fail. "Elrohir, I am coming," he rasped out.

* * *

            Elrond released his hold on Legolas' mind. Panting for air he slumped back in his chair, only the armrests kept him from falling out of it altogether. Blinking hard he managed to take in the room around him. 

            Erestor had collapsed against a nearby cabinet. His raven locks were in disarray, sticking to his sweat-dampened face. His eyes were tightly shut and his lean body was trembling in the aftermath of the healing.

            Thranduil was passed out on the floor at Elrond's feet. His blond hair pooled around him and his hands were curled into fists. The king snored softly.

            Slowly, as if afraid of what he might see, Elrond redirected his gaze to the bed.

            Legolas' eyes were open. The blue orbs were as watery as those of a newborn babe. His mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before Elrond placed a gentle hand over it. "Have no fear, Legolas. You did well by returning when I called. You must rest now, I will remain close."

            The prince nodded. He still hurt, but it was a bearable kind of pain and one he was unfortunately all too accustomed with. It was the pain of wounds healing, bones and flesh slowly knitting themselves back together, though he knew it was not his own natural ability that was the cause of his recovery.           

            Elrond turned around shakily when Glorfindel entered the room. The ancient elf looked at Elrond as he uncorked a bottle of wine. "I thought you could use a drink," he said cheerfully by way of explanation. He handed a glass of the ruby liquid to Elrond and held another to own lips. He paused. "A toast to you Legolas. Welcome back."

* * *

            Sorry! I know it was a dreadfully short chapter but it just worked out that way! In any case, I promise that the next one will be longer. But hey, at least I updated on time, right?

                Just let me know what you think, okay? Thanks again for reading!!


	11. Chapter X!

As always, thanks to those who took the time to review. I'm so glad Legolas is getting better now. It was fun to torture him but he really deserves to be happy for a little while.

Sorry this chapter took so long to come out, but I've been having computer problems, writer's block, and extra hours at work.  In any case, please enjoy this chapter. I'm particularly happy with the character development in it.

Landslide

Chapter XI

By NekoMegami_chan

nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com

            Elladan roamed the landscape of his dreams. Gentle memories replayed in his mind to lighten the darkness of his current reality. He gladly accepted the comfort they presented. 

            He was walking through tall grass. His tunic and shirt were cast aside that he might better enjoy the finest gifts of Arda. Bees alighted on the flowers that bloomed in all their brilliant colour. A hawk flew high above the field and the great bird's keen eyes scrutinized the lay of the land. Elladan called out to it, his throat forming the perfect imitation of the hawk's screech.

            The airborne predator whistled shrilly in reply ere some small creature at the forest's edge caught its attention. The bird swiftly disappeared ad Elladan began his search for some other amusement.

            Their horses grazed on the far side of the embankment, tails swishing idly. The rays of a hot summer sun soaked into the green hillside where his brother rested. Elrohir lay sprawled near the river's edge, reading a volume of poetry. His raven hair was piled atop his head, the hunter's plaits tied together so that the light breeze coming off the swiftly moving water could cool him.

            A sudden playfulness overcame Elladan. Darting forward he snatched the book from his twin's hands and rolled Elrohir into the river. He collapsed laughing at the expression on Elrohir's faces as he surfaced. 

            "You look the perfect picture of tragedy and rage!" Elladan danced out of reach when Elrohir tried to pull him in as well. "You will have to be more cunning than that if you want to catch me!"

            Hauling himself out of the water, Elrohir leapt and bore his twin down to the grass. "Or simply faster," he panted, pining Elladan beneath his knees. "In any case, I have always been able to best you in a wrestling match."

            "I yield!" Elladan coughed out. But his mirth faded when he felt his brother grow still. 

            A chill wind whipped up, turning Elladan's skin to ice. The bright sun sank beneath an abrupt outpouring of dark and menacing clouds. Elrohir pushed away and sat down heavily, his eyes were wide as he stared back at the river. 

            Frightened and fearing the worst, Elladan slowly pushed himself up and turned to follow Elrohir's gaze. The river was expanding, rippling to the horizon. Great waves sprang up in the distance with a roar. 

            A sea gull wheeled overhead, a pale shadow of the hawk Elladan had seen before. Through different, the gull was equally beautiful. Hauntingly so, like an errant soul. Yet its wailing call struck deeply into Elladan's heart in a way that the other bird's cry had not.

            Tears of longing welled up in him. The eternal and uncorrupted peace of the Havens lay beyond the sea. His mother and his love, Surinen waited for him across the watery expanse. Elladan could almost imagine their open arms welcoming him as he stepped off the boat.

            His heart ached and his chest constricted. He had put off this journey for too long. Imladris had ceased to be his home and instead became his prison. Middle Earth was lost to the elves, their time had drawn to its inevitable close. 

            Elladan's hand sought out Elrohir's and gripped the warm fingers tightly. It was their squeeze that reminded Elladan why he yet remained in Arda. Biting back a moan of despair he slumped into Elrohir's waiting embrace. "Do not be troubled Elrohir," he murmured. He had always found his own strength in providing strength for others, a trait he had inherited from Elrond. "I will not leave you! I will stay until you are ready to join me in the Grey Havens."

            Elrohir rubbed his brother's back and stroked his hair. "No. You will go. You must sail ere the year's end, else you will fade. I have seen it. And when you do, I will be by your side."

            Elladan's eyes grew wide. This was not the brother of his dreams and memories. Elrohir was here with him, holding him. He sat back to look Elrohir in the face. "We have never discussed this before and now is not the time. You are to be resting, and you are under the influence of powerful herbs."

            "The herbs only affect my body, which is sleeping deeply. But they also serve to heighten my spirit and inner sight. I know that this has never come up between us, yet this is not the first time I have felt your suffering as you stave off the sea-longing. The cry of the gull throbs within you still. Look! You tremble with it! Do not let it consume you; this is one battle which you cannot win."

            Elladan knew his brother was right. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his forearm. "I know that you are resolved in this and unlike your dear Legolas, I am neither brave nor foolhardy enough to defy your good senses. But I must insist that you do not leave before your time has come. To do so would be folly. You are still recovering from grief and we both know that you must remain with Legolas."

            "I will heal it time, and it will only do me good to begin my life anew in the Undying Lands. Legolas is strong and will be happy, finding joy in his friends and the living things of the world. When all of the mortals that he loves have passed, he will join us." Elrohir stood and offered Elladan his hand. "I was wrong to have been so selfish of Legolas. Ere the Fellowship departed Imladris I told him that to be away form him for even so long as it would take him to make the journey would be beyond my ability to bear. I thought only of my own happiness then. I have grown in wisdom since that time."

            Elrohir slung an arm around Elladan's shoulders. "Yet no matter what comes to pass, I shall remain by your side – forever and without fail."

            "And so to do I vow," Elladan said, blinking as he came awake. He gazed across at his twin's sleeping face and frowned as the spectral squeal of the gull seemed to echo the heavy pre-dawn air. "And what is between us; that much at least, is clear."

* * *

            Legolas was already asleep by the time Elrond swallowed his first mouthful of wine. Glorfindel had taken only a sip from his glass before setting it aside and stooping to aid Erestor into a nearby bed. 

            The elegant advisor coughed and sent a lopsided grin in Elrond's general direction. "Well done Elrond. You have another saved another life," he was forced to pause in order to arch a dark brow at Glorfindel, who was removing his slippers with the air of a practiced nurse. "If you do not go down in the history books as the greatest healer of Middle Earth, than perhaps you will find yourself listed as the most prolific one!"

            Glorfindel laughed heartily and helped Erestor to manage a few swallows of the potent wine. "I'm sorry, my friend," he apologized, tucking the younger elf beneath the covers. "I fear our dear Lord Elrond is not in the mood for levity this night!" The ancient blue eyes glinted with mirth born of relief.

            Elrond swirled the wine in his goblet and stared at it contemplatively for long moments before he spoke. "There is still a long road of recovery ahead of him. Some infection remains, despite my best efforts. It was left too long unattended. And his hip troubles me also I-," Elrond was cut off in mid sentence when Glorfindel, who had already situated Thranduil on the bed nearest the prince, plucked the glass from his fingers.

            "There is only I left awake to listen to you, Elrond," Glorfindel said gently. There was no need for formal titles between them, no when they were alone. Millennia of friendship and eliminated the need for such trifles. "And if I know you half as well as I think I do, you are overly concerned. You have done your best and the young one will be perfectly well in time."

            Elrond nodded. He closed his eyes, fully intending to rest in the chair for a few hours ere he rose to see to Elrohir. He knew the effects of grief first hand, the depression, guilt and loneliness on the mind and body. And his son was never happy to have been drugged, even as a remedy for pain. Elrond resented the loss of control, though Elladan had no such qualms.

            Glorfindel carefully lifted Elrond from the chair, causing the elf lord to stumble from his inner musings with a start. Glorfindel sighed and arranged his friend on a bed across the aisle from Erestor before covering him with a quilt. He promptly placed a finger over Elrond's lips. "There is no sense in arguing, unless you desire for me to treat you like an elfling."

            With a yawn, Elrond sank back into the swans' down mattress and fell into a deep sleep. One of his hands remained entangled in Glrofindel's tunic, and the Elda slowly uncurled the long fingers from his clothing. "If I had ever had a son – I would have wanted him to bear your qualities, Elrond," the ancient elf murmured. "And I already think of Gladriel and Celeborn's grandchildren as my own. 

            A small noise in the hall attracted Glrofindel's attention. It was the maid, come with a pitcher of cool water and the tray of food he had requested. He rose to greet her silently, and ushered her inside.

            She set the tray on the nearest unoccupied table, and curtsied. As he turned to leave, Glorfindel cleared his throat. "I really must apologize," he whispered. "But I can't seem to remember you name."

            "Just another effect of old age, my friend," Mithrandir grumbled from a shadowed corner near the window. "I believe it is Maeneth, is it not?"

            Glorfindel did not remark upon the wizard's abrupt arrival. He had become strangely desensitized to such bizarre happenings centuries ago. "Ah! So it is!" he quietly exclaimed, even as he politely dismissed the serving maid, who wasted no time in making herself scarce. Glorfindel held up a piece of cheese and fruit, "Care to join me Mithrandir? It seems we must take the first watch this night."

            "With pleasure, old friend," Gandalf chuckled, easing his old bones into a chair and selecting a slice of sweet bread. "Now, tell me what has transpired."

* * *

Wow, 1:10 AM and I finally finished this chapter!! Go me! In any case, I hope everyone is still interested in this story after the long wait between this chapter and the last one.

Sadly, (or perhaps not) this fic is slowly winding to a close. I only anticipate one more chapter, and then an epilogue to wrap everything up and tie off loose ends.

But don't worry, the sequel I'm planning takes place right where this one will leave off. Let me know if you're still interested in seeing the second half of this story arc, okay?

Once again, thanks for all your kind reviews!  
  


P.S.      I have to admit, I was at a loss for the maid's name so I just made one up. I know that's unprofessional, but I didn't really feel like searching tough the online Elvish dictionaries tonight. If anyone's bothered by it, I'll gladly take suggestions to change it.


	12. Chapter XII

Wow! Well, due to the overwhelming response I received, I'm happy to announce that there will indeed be a sequel!! To tell the truth, I'm very relieved to find out that everyone was interested in me continuing this story arc. I've had so much fun writing this fic that I think I would have been very upset if it had turned out that no one wanted to read any more. 

Also, just a bit late for father's day is a very father friendly chapter! (Not to mention that despite computer problems, this is much longer than usual!)

Thanks for all of your reviews. Enjoy!

Landslide

Chapter XII

By NekoMegami_chan

nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com

            It was pleasantly warm. He could feel the sun bathing his face and birds chirped somewhere outside. The familiar fragrance of refreshing crushed altheas brought him forward into awareness. A feeling of safety and peace surrounded his aching body and Legolas slowly opened his eyes. 

            The newly awakened prince was greeted by the friendly countenance of Mithrandir, called Gandalf in the tongue of Men and hobbits. The wizard's beard was tucked neatly into the belt of his white robes and he leaned comfortably against his staff, watching Legolas intently. "Good morning," the wizard said amiably. 

            Legolas burst into a smile of joy, life flooding into his face. "Good day to you, Mithrandir!" he choked out. The husky catch to his long unused voice startled him and he fell silent. 

            The wizard gave him a fatherly pat on the shoulder. "A pity," he grumbled. "A pity indeed that such a lovely voice as yours should be reduced to the tones of an old man."

            "Do not tease him," Erestor chuckled from the next bed. The advisor rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms and back. "How do you feel Legolas?" he asked, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

            "I shall feel better when I have seen Elrohir," the prince replied pointedly.

            Mithrandir held a cup of warm, weak tea to his lips and bade him drink. Legolas managed a few thirsty swallows ere the wizard held the mug away. "Slowly! Lest you choke!" he admonished. "Elrond would be quite upset if all of his labors to pull you from Mandos' fingertips proved to be for naught." 

            Legolas nodded and when the cup was offered again, he sipped carefully. His mind was a tumult of emotions and questions, yet many years' experience with the wizard had taught him not to push for answers.

              
            "It is nearing midmorning," Erestor murmured to himself as he moved to check on Thranduil. The king was sleeping still; his eyes open though the lids were heavy. The blonde had never participated in a healing before, and it was likely that he would not awaken for many hours still. 

            Erestor straightened. He had frequently been like this when he had first begun to aid Elrond. The lord of Imladris had once explained that those who had little or no training often leaked more energy than they channeled into the healer; with the consequence that they accidentally over extended themselves. 

            Erestor looked around the room. The House of Healing at Imladris consisted of a single open wing of a building. Carefully made beds lined the two long walls. Windows were set at precise intervals to let in as much natural light as possible. The east face of the building looked out onto the gardens and the windows were often opened to the breeze. Running a hand through his hair, Erestor turned back to Legolas.

            Mithrandir sat back in his chair. "Glorfindel escorted Elrond to the twin's chambers not long ago." 

Legolas opened his mouth to speak. Yet when a bushy white eyebrow rose, the elf subsided. He would have preferred to rise and hobble off to see his beloved, but the weakness and pain in his limbs assured him that he was in no position to do so.

Mithrandir continued seamlessly. "Elrond will allow Elrohir to see you at his discretion. You see young Legolas, whilst you were gallivanting 'round the countryside Elrohir was suffering from grief, and a misplaced and self-inflicted guilt, I might add. He blames himself for your misfortune." 

"Grief! Nay, Mithrandir! Pray tell me you spoke in jest!" Legolas gasped, though the wizard's words were ever filled with truth.

Gandalf shook his head, too many times had he been forced to be the bearer of bad news. Ere Legolas could make himself ill with worry, for the wizard knew all too well how fragile the normally virile prince was, he placed a reassuring smile on his weathered face. "I do not. But do not fret so, he will recover. You will be the strength that he leans on as his soul heals, as he will be your crutch while your body mends. Now, I firmly suggest that you take some more rest. When next you wake perhaps he will be here."

"I feel filthy; I can still smell the stench of orc blood mingled with mine. It clings to me. I desire to bathe if only you would call for a chamberlain," Legolas said disdainfully. "I do not want to be reunited with Elrohir smelling like a half-rotted corpse."

Erestor laughed suddenly. "You fought hard enough when dipped beneath the water only last night! When first you arrived your flesh was all but frozen from exposure, and even a tepid bath made you thrash and cry out!"

With the swiftness of a bolt from his own bow, Legolas had a better understanding of at least one event after he had come upon the party from Rivendell the evening before. The half-remembered fire that had raced through his blood had been a mere bath. Yet he could not deny that he still smelled as rank as a bog. "I am no longer cold; all I ask is for some assistance in scrubbing the foulness from my skin and hair."

Erestor shook his head slightly. "Nay, Prince Legolas! I dare not risk my Lord Elrond's wrath should you break so much as a single stitch! However, if it pleases you I will fetch a sponge and warm water scented with lemon with which to bathe your face, chest and arms."

Legolas' lips formed a tight line. "Though severely dislike the idea of being so dependant upon your kindness, Erestor, I gratefully accept." He was already feeling the heavy pull of sleep even as the pain of his injuries grew steadily more prominent. 

Mithrandir sensed this and the Istar pressed a gentle hand to Legolas' fair brow. "Sleep," the command carried the weight of a spell and the elf princes' eyes slid shut as he instantly slept deeply. 

            "Now let us pray that Elrohir fares as well," Erestor sighed as he filled a kettle of water from the large basin of fresh water that was kept in the healing house for just such a purpose, and set it on the hearthstones. He took a few lemon slices from the fruit tray and dropped them into the kettle, steeping them. "What think you, Mithrandir?"

            When he received no answer, the advisor turned around to find the wizard gone. 

* * *

            Elrond took his hand off of Glorfindel's supportive shoulder to rap on the door to the twins' expansive apartments. Elladan's muffled voice bade him enter. With a nod of sincere thanks to Glorfindel, Elrond let himself in and closed the door behind him. 

            "In here, Father," Elladan called softly from his bedchamber. 

The sight that greeted Elrond as he walked through the open door filled him to the brim with fatherly love. Elladan was propped up against the ornate cedar headboard, Elrohir's head pillowed in his lap. Elladan was stroking his brother's hair soothingly and rhythmically, like one might stroke a small dog. 

Yet Elrond's heart nearly stopped when he met Elladan's gaze. His son's eyes were red from weeping and his face was resolute. After a short moment of hesitation Elrond shot forward, joining his children on the wide bed. His fingers quickly searched for and found a pulse at Elrohir's throat. To his vast relief the heart beat strongly and the breath that brushed the back of his hand was even and unlaboured.

"You had me frightened!" Elrond sighed. "What troubles you so, my son?"

Elladan met his father's gaze squarely. "You should not have had me drug him!"

Elrond was completely taken aback, but ere he could speak Elladan began again. "Father," he paused, summoning his courage. The words rushed past his mouth almost faster than he could articulate them. "I met Elrohir in my dreams. We were playing on the riverbank when a storm arose. The river became the sea. Father, the cry of the gull – it beckoned to me." Elladan gave Elrond a few moments to ponder the weight of his words and their meaning before he added, "Elrohir read my soul; he foresaw that I would fade ere the years' end if I do not sail. And – he is resolved to accompany me. We will depart as soon as Legolas is fully recovered." 

Elladan could not bear to look upon his father's face and he turned instead to Elrohir, absently studying the pale features. "Father, the sea longing is not a new affliction for me. I am sorry for not having sought your confidence. I wished only not to upset you."

"I see," Elrond murmured. He had known this day would come. He would soon be completely alone. Arwen was mortal and destined to live the remainder of her life far from her home at Imladris. His poor wife had long since escaped to the healing peace of the Undying Lands. Now his sons would leave him. Elrond regretted that his position would not allow him to sail with them. It was his duty to remain and oversee the twilight of the elves in Middle Earth. The healer would now be the historian as well.

Wordlessly Elrond clasped his children to him though Elrohir did not stir. His care and blessings were conveyed by the intensity of his embrace. Even the sleeping twin smiled in mute acceptance of his father's love. 

            "Thank you father," Elladan whispered, "for understanding. Have strength and you will join us ere you are aware time has passed."

            "I pray to the Valar it will be as you say," Elrond sighed.

* * *

            Thranduil watched Legolas resting in the next bed. His son's golden mane lay splayed over the linen pillow. His ashen skin had finally regained some of its former glow. With as much as he generally disliked Elrond, Thranduil was wholly pleased with the healer's efforts. Though of course, the success of the entire endeavor had without a doubt been hinged upon his own contributions. From the heaviness and exhaustion that continued to plague him, he must have given his son a huge portion of his life force. It frightened him that he had nearly lost his youngest child and the dearest to his hardened heart.

            Gazing upon Legolas, Thranduil found himself wishing for a time without measure that his son had chosen to marry and give him grandchildren. Or at least that he had forced the prince to marry soon after his majority. Yet he had not, too many other things had forced his attention to stray from his young son – pressing concerns that overshadowed that particular necessity. 

            Even two hundred years ago he might have had a chance to sway Legolas' mind. And now he was in love with another male. To show a casual interest in one's comrade or friend before one reached the age of maturity was admissible, such strong relationships often proved beneficial on the battlefield. To know a friend was as vital to success and survival as to know an enemy.

Yet to desire to lay with the son of Elrond Preredhil was beyond shameful! Though Elrohir and Legolas had not yet had the audacity to consummate their relationship – for to do so was as marriage for an elf – he knew that they would at the next possible opportunity. 

            Frustrated, Thranduil picked at the fruit on the table in search of the best remaining morsels. It was several hours old and had lost some of its flavor. Yet no maid had been by to bring a fresh tray. His ire was quickly redirected at the wilted food. Such laziness on the part of servants would ever have been tolerated in his household. Perhaps the elves in Elrond's service held little respect for their lord? He thought it likely.

            Feeling the attention of another upon him, Thranduil raised his head. He noticed that the advisor known as Erestor had set aside the stack of parchment he had been reading from the armchair near the hearth. "Yes?" the king inquired curtly.

            "Many pardons, King Thranduil," Erestor inclined his head disarmingly, yet with no hint of submission. "I was only admiring the similarities between yourself and prince Legolas. They are quite numerous, though I am swayed to think that he carries much of his mother's charm and manner."

            "How impertinent!" Thranduil shouted, throwing off his lethargy and leaping to his feet. When Erestor did not so much as part his lips to apologize, he grunted angrily and swept from the room, ere his temper got the better of him.

* * *

            When Elrohir entered the house of healing it was late afternoon. The sun shone weakly through the heavy clouds and a light, dry snow fell. All of the windows in the long room had been closed and the shades drawn. Tapers lined the walls and the hearths where lit, casting a warm glow. Erestor had removed Thranduil to his guest quarters and the advisor excused himself quickly when Elrond and his sons arrived, taking Glorfindel with him.

            Tears rolled down his cheeks as soon as his eyes met Legolas' from across the room. The loving words he had prepared fled him at it was all he could manage was a choked, "Hello."

            Legolas watched as Elrohir disentangled himself from his family and took a few steps towards him. Elrohir was resplendent. The raven hair was completely unbound and combed straight; a perfect frame for the pale high cheekbones and wide, expressive mouth. Elrohir's body, as lean and powerful as a stag's, was clad in a deep blue robe with white trim left open at the neck. Legolas fell in love anew. "Well met, Elrohir. Please pardon my lateness; I was unavoidably detained."

            Ere Legolas could remark further, Elrohir had covered the remaining distance between them. The kiss was brief yet when they parted Legolas was remained in the silken tent created by Elrohir's hair cascading down around him, the other's hot tears falling like rain onto the prince's upturned face. "It is I who needs be pardoned."

            "Did you not receive my reply letter?" Legolas asked.

            "I did," Elrohir whispered, swallowing his tears. 

Legolas cleared his throat and quoted. "_All was forgiven, dear heart, ere the words left your lips_. But, there is time enough for that later, my love." 

            "Yes, of course," and then their mouths met once more.

* * *

Hey everyone! Thanks for reading and please review, okay? Next is the epilogue, so watch out for it in the next few days or so.

Also, I'm interested in finding out the general demographics of my audience. If no one minds, could you please tell me your gender and age? I'm just curious to know who I'm writing for and it may affect what I write in the future. Thanks!


	13. Epilogue

I just wanted to extend a special thanks to everyone who read this story. Your generous reviews have helped to make this story, in my opinion, the best I have ever written.  
  
I'm very, very sorry that this epilogue took so long, but the virus that attacked my computer shut it down completely and I have been without for nearly three weeks! The only way that I was able to finish this chapter was by borrowing a few minutes of computer time from my sister when possible. But don't worry, it's all taken care of now. ^_^  
  
Please look for the upcoming sequel to Landslide within the next week. It is tentatively titled On the West Wind Sails the Gull. As promised it will resume where this fic leaves off.  
  
Now, please enjoy the epilogue and don't forget to review!  
  
Landslide  
Epilogue  
By NekoMegami_chan  
nekomegami_chan@hotmail.com  
  
The snow ceased as night wrapped itself over the land. A brisk wind swept through the air to banish the dark and laden clouds to a far distant part of Middle Earth. The stars appeared; luminous pinpricks piercing the black veil of the sky. Somewhere a beast howled at the rising moon. In the stables of Imladris, Arod groaned in pleasure as he settled himself down into the warm wood shavings that cushioned the stall floor and lay out on his side.  
  
In the healing house, Elrond sat before a wide stone hearth, rocking in an ornate chair that had once belonged to his wife. In his lap was an oilcloth piled with dried herbs and a deep bowl was balanced on his knees. He hummed, casting a simple healing enchantment over the blossoms and leaves as he crushed them into the bowl with the aid of an ancient marble pestle.  
  
Across from the Lord of Rivendell sat Glorfindel. The Elda reclined on the floor, reading a book of history though he had no doubt witnessed the events it described firsthand. Erestor, Elladan and Mithrandir had gathered around a table, sharing a bottle of brandy and tales of their most recent adventures.  
  
In the relative privacy afforded to them, Elrohir and Legolas remained in deep conversation. Whispered words of affection were traded freely between them, as were a few gentle and covert touches.  
  
The sight made Elrond smile. While he never would have chosen Legolas for Elrohir's partner, he could not deny that they made each other happy and whole in a way that no other elf could have. He knew that Thranduil felt differently and it pained him that his old friend would not give his blessing. Elrond was thankful that at the least, the Elven King had either forgotten the earlier charges he had leveled against Elrohir or else had decided not to press them.  
  
Not that it much mattered, he decided as he sprinkled a little more of the herbs into the bowl. His sons were to sail ere the year's end and Legolas would not be going with them. Elrond's heart constricted at that thought, not only because he would soon be alone save for Erestor and Glorfindel, but because he sincerely doubted that neither the twins nor Legolas realized quite how little time they had left.  
  
If, as Elrohir had foreseen, Elladan must depart from Middle Earth ere the year's closing than preparations would have to be made at once. It was already mid November and travel would be difficult with the winter's early and heavy snows. Elrond's lips pressed into a tight line and he ground viciously at the contents of his bowl. If all went well and the weather did not worsen, their journey would need to begin in less than a fortnight, and then they would need to ride as swiftly as they dared.  
  
The ship that would transport his sons to the Undying Lands sailed in all conditions. Built and maintained by the Valar it was blessed to ensure safe passage at all times and was always ready when the need was dire. He had no fear that it would not await his children when they arrived.  
  
Still, Elrond frowned.  
  
Forcing Legolas to remain behind in Rivendell would be next to impossible. The long days spent traveling in the frozen wilds despite his severe injuries; coupled with the infection from the orc inflicted wound had seriously weakened him. Elrond's experience told him that Legolas had surpassed the capacity of his body's restorative powers and that there was little the healer could do to quicken them. Only time would be able to undo the damage that had been done.  
  
Nevertheless, Legolas was not one to give in easily. He was accustomed to dealing with pain and would put himself at great risk in order to convince everyone that he was fit enough to accompany them. Yes, Elrond would have to work very hard to make certain that Legolas remained; a task that would be rendered even more difficult by the fact that he fully intended to escort his sons.  
  
As if sensing Elrond's thoughts, or perhaps reaching the same conclusions, Glorfindel closed the tome in his lap and raised his eyes. Elrond ceased his humming and his hands grew still. A long moment passed as each search for and found the necessary resolve in the other's face.  
  
"It will not be easy," the Elda spoke softly, for Elrond's ears alone.  
  
Elrond's smile returned, but it was grim and did not reach his eyes. "Nothing ever is, my friend."  
  
* * *  
  
Elrohir's joy was somewhat dampened by the knowledge that their reunion would be brief. He dreaded the moment when he must tell Legolas that their days in Arda were swiftly drawing to a close.  
  
Elrohir was gently lifted from his reverie when Legolas' fingers brushed the back of his hand. He had not been conscious of the silence that had fallen between them. "What troubles you, Elrohir? Are you weary or is your heart yet heavy with grief?"  
  
"Aye, I am weary," Elrohir affirmed. He spoke true for the grief and the vision he had shared with his brother had left him on the brink of exhaustion while the drug-induced sleep had afforded him little rest.  
  
Legolas sensed that there was more that Elrohir did not reveal though the son of Elrond was spared from any further interrogation when Legolas was suddenly overcome by a wave of dizziness and pain. He had been sitting upright for nearly an hour and the strain of even such a mild exertion had taken its toll.  
  
Carefully, Elrohir helped Legolas lay back in the bed before tenderly smoothing back the loosely plaited flaxen locks. "We can speak more in morning, dear heart," Elrohir soothed as Legolas shut his eyes against the pain. "I will get father to make up something to ease you through the night," he made to rise but Legolas did not relinquish his hand.  
  
"Stay with me tonight?" the prince asked, his voice breathy and low. He did not beg, only requested the company of his beloved.  
  
"Of course," Elrohir replied. Catching his father's attention, he gestured to the prone body on the bed. The healer nodded in understanding and rose to prepare a draught.  
  
Elrohir settled back down and slanted his warm, dry lips over Legolas'. He could taste the prince's medicine-sweet breath as they kissed and his worries melted away. Somehow all would be well if only because Legolas loved him.  
  
So, take this love and take it down  
  
Year and if you climb a mountain and you turn around  
  
And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills  
  
Well the landslide brought me down  
  
And if you see my reflection in the snow-covered hills  
  
Well maybe  
  
Well maybe  
  
Well maybe the landslide will bring you down.  
  
The End  
  
* * *  
  
Well, there you go! The end to Landslide! Thanks again to everyone who reviewed!!  
  
Don't forget to check out the upcoming sequel!! You asked for it and you got it!  
  
Bye for now! 


End file.
